We're All Professionals Here, Aren't We?
by redrider6612
Summary: Sequel to The Woman in the Alley As Booth and Brennan try to balance their professional and personal relationships, they try to solve the case of a serial killer who is killing children and burying them in churchyards. BB fluff and Parker cuteness.
1. Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

"I don't think that was realistic," Brennan said, frowning as they watched Buz Lightyear 'flying'. Booth paused the movie AGAIN and tried to hold onto his patience.

"Temperance, it is an animated movie. It isn't supposed to be realistic," Booth explained for what felt like the tenth time.

"Yeah, Dr Bones," Parker chimed in with a roll of his eyes, "it's pertend. Daddy esplained that before."

Brennan smiled down at the boy. "I know, Parker. But still, you would think they would at least try to make it believable. I mean, really!"

The Booth men exchanged an exasperated look and Booth hit play again.

later...

Booth glanced over at Brennan as the credits rolled on the TV screen. It had taken several hours to get through "Toy Story", which had seemed like a great choice at first, but he had to keep pausing it to explain the pop culture references to her. He didn't realize before--there were a lot of them in this movie!

Brennan smiled at him then put her arm around Parker, cuddling him closer to her. The exhausted little boy had dropped off about half an hour before. Booth shut the TV off and shifted on the couch so he could pick his son up. Brennan moved the boy into Booth's arms and smiled tenderly as Parker settled against Booth's chest. He was such a good father. He deserved to have more children. That thought made her stop and think. 'Do I want children?' she wondered. She had always thought she didn't, but since she'd started spending so much time with Booth and Parker, she had found her stance softening.

Pulling her feet up under her, she stared at the blank TV screen. Parker was a wonderful little boy, but then, she wasn't with him all the time. Could she handle him full time?

Booth came back and sat down near her. Her posture didn't invite touching, so he stretched out his legs and linked his hands behind his head. There was a long, comfortable silence. Brennan finally seemed to come back from where she'd been. She scooted close to Booth and snuggled into his side. Booth put his arm around her and pulled her in tighter.

"Seeley?" she asked quietly. Kissing the top of her head, Booth grunted. "Do you want more children?"

Booth didn't have to think about it. "Yes, of course. Two or three more. I love children, Temperance."

Brennan tipped her head back to look him in the eye. "I know you do, Seeley. You're a really wonderful father. You SHOULD have a dozen kids. I just don't think I can be the one to give them to you." Tears spilled down her cheeks and Booth felt his heart squeeze.

"We don't have to decide that right away," he assured her softly, brushing the tears away with his thumb. "I love you and I want to be with you. That's what's important to me right now."

Brennan wanted to be comforted by his words, but this was too important to ignore. "This is a pretty major subject that a couple should agree on, Seeley."

He kissed her gently. "It doesn't have to be decided tonight, Temperance. Can't we just enjoy our time together for now?"

She searched his face and must have found what she was looking for, because she finally nodded. Booth pulled her into his lap and hugged her tightly. Relief flooded him. He had been so afraid she was trying to break it off with him. He couldn't bear to think of that. Because he was afraid if she were to break it off, she might not want to work with him either. And that didn't bear thinking of either.

CHAPTER 2

Brennan booted her computer up and took a sip of her coffee while she waited. She punched in her password, then opened her email. Sifting through the usual messages from TV shows asking for technical guidance, students requesting materials and friends around the world checking in, she lifted her cup to her mouth again but stopped just short. There was an email from 'carnyrideatyahoodotcom'--that had to be Russ! She felt her excitement rise and clicked the message open.

"Tempe, just wanted to let you know we are safe. We can't tell you where we are, but we will check in from time to time. If you write back, be careful what you say. You never know who's listening. Gotta go now. Take care of you and know that we love you.'

Brennan smiled and sat back. They're safe and they had found a secure way to keep in touch. That brought her a measure of comfort. She debated whether she should tell Booth. If she did, he might feel compelled to report it to the bureau. She didn't understand the inner workings of computers, but she thought there was some way to track email. But wouldn't Russ and her father have covered that possibility, taken steps to protect themselves? She was sure they would, so there would be no harm in telling Booth. She was glad. She didn't want to start keeping secrets from him, not when things were going so well.

Just then he walked into her office as though her thoughts had summoned him. He wore a deep blue suit with a crisp white shirt His tie was blood red with an interesting geometric design on it. Her lips twitched when she saw his belt buckle--it was red and said 'cocky' on it with the silhouette of a rooster. He stopped in front of her desk and put his hands on his hips.

"What's funny?" he asked, smiling at her.

Brennan chuckled and shook her head. "Love the belt buckle, Booth. Very...assertive."

Booth looked down at it and back up at her, grinning wider. "I couldn't pass it up. After Gordon Gordon told me about belt buckles being modern day codpieces, it seemed appropriate."

Brennan glanced back at her monitor and saved her brother's email address to 'contacts' then deleted the email. She decided she'd tell Booth about it later, after she'd had time to decide how best to approach the subject.

"So, we have a case," he announced, sliding his hands into his pants pockets. Keeping them there helped him resist the urge to pull her into his arms. She looked really beautiful this morning, with her soft hair down on her shoulders, drawing his eyes to the red scoop necked top that showed just a hint of cleavage. His eyes lingered there a tad too long and then darted up to meet her amused gaze. A smile quirked one corner of her mouth and he knew she had followed the direction of his thoughts.

"Really? Let me grab my kit and see if Terry is available to go with us." Terry was her new assistant. He was 22, a grad student and eager to please. Too eager at times, she thought, but she was trying to be patient.

Brennan had just grabbed her kit when Terry appeared in her doorway. He had a camera case on his shoulder and carried his own kit. He was very tall and lanky with dishwater blond hair and black rimmed glasses. He was uncomfortable around women, blushing when he had to talk to them. His discomfort disappeared when he was talking about a case, his enthusiasm allowing him to forget for the moment that he was talking to a woman. Brennan hoped time would cure him of his awkwardness around women.

"Hello, Agent Booth. We have a case, Dr Brennan?" He pushed his glasses up with his free hand, a nervous gesture that Booth found irritating. Booth actually found himself missing Zach. He was beginning to appreciate Bones' former assistant the more he was around Terry. He was trying to give the kid the benefit of the doubt, but he didn't remember having this much trouble getting used to Zach.

Brennan smiled at him and nodded. "I see you anticipated that I'd need you. Booth will fill us in on the way." With that they headed for the parking garage.

CHAPTER 3

"A guy walking his dog found the body. It's buried under a tree in a church yard. Agents on the scene say it's a small child, major decomp, so it's been there a long time," Booth said as he drove. He tried to keep his thoughts on the facts as he knew them so far, but his mind kept picking at the idea of someone murdering a small child. Who could do that? he wondered. What kind of sick person could kill a little child and bury them? He felt Brennan's hand on his arm and darted a glance at her, but couldn't sustain contact when he saw the sympathy there. Not now, he thought, if I don't stay detached, I'm going to break down, and that isn't going to help.

Arriving at the scene, Booth could see the area had been cordoned off and everyone was standing around, waiting for them. Brennan and Terry shouldered their kits and walked to the burial cite. Booth flashed his shield at the agent in charge and ducked under the caution tape. Someone had started exposing the remains. One small arm and a portion of the head were visible. Terry starting snapping pictures as Brennan crouched by the body, her eyes taking in the condition of the site and apparent stages of decomposition. Gloving up, she started taking samples of the soil and bugs. This was the part that always made Booth a little antsy. He understood the necessity and respected Bones' thoroughness, but he needed information so he could get started on the investigation.

"How long do you think the body's been here?"

Brennan answered without looking up. "Four or five years." She pulled a small spade from her kit and started carefully exposing the remains further. When she had it completely revealed, she sat back on her heels and wiped the sweat from her brow with a wrist. "Looks like a Caucasoid female, five to seven years old."

Booth waited for her to go on and when it seemed she didn't intend to, asked "Cause of death?"

Brennan shook her head. "We're going to have to determine cause of death at the lab. I don't see any sign of weapons of any kind."

Booth shifted, trying to rein in his impatience. "C'mon Bones, give me something to work with here. You really have no idea?" She glanced up at him as Terry spread a body bag on the ground.

"No Booth, I have no idea, and you know how I feel about 'guessing'. You're just going to have to wait until I've had time to examine the evidence." She helped Terry put the pitifully small remains in the body bag and zip it up. Looking up at Booth again, her face was grim. "I'm sorry, Booth. I just don't see the value of theorizing based on so little evidence. The victim has been dead for years. A couple more days aren't going to make a difference."

Booth's mouth was grim. "It makes a difference to me, Bones. Some bstard killed this child and stuck her in the ground and for years, they have lived with the thought that they got away with it. Every hour they spend breathing free air is an hour too long for me," he finished harshly.

Brennan's respect for him rose another notch, if that was possible, and she took a step toward him as though she wanted to hug him. Mindful of the people around them, she contented herself with squeezing his forearm. "We'll catch them and you'll make them pay. Just be patient while I do my job." Lifting her kit, she followed Terry back to the car. With a final glance around the scene, Booth turned to follow her. This case was going to be a hard one, he thought. They always were when they involved a child.

The squints got to work on the case right away and once again Booth was making a pest of himself, hovering next to Brennan as she and Zach examined the remains. Brennan was at a loss. "There is no evidence of any kind of wound anywhere on the body. Do you concur, Zach?"

"Yes, Dr Brennan. No apparent wounds of any kind. Which might rule out murder." Brennan shot a warning glance at him and then looked at Booth, who was listening closely.

"Not necessarily, Dr Addy," she said. Uh-oh, Zach thought nervously, she only uses that form of address when she is irritated with me. What did I say? he wondered. "There are other ways to murder someone, suffocation, poisoning, strangulation. It's too soon to tell for certain," she said firmly.

"You're right, Dr Brennan. Sorry," he replied, relieved when she returned to examining the body.

Hodgins spoke up from where he was studying the bug samples. "Bug activity puts the time of burial at about 4 years. I'll know more after I've examined the soil samples."

"Terry, I need you to test a sample of the flesh for traces of poison. Then I want you to clean the bones."

"Yes, Dr Brennan."

Pulling off her gloves, she rolled her head on her neck, trying to work out the tension in her neck and shoulders. "I'm going home."

Booth followed her to her office. She shut her computer down and put her coat on. Picking up her purse, she headed for the door. Booth stopped her with a hand on her arm.

"That's it? You're just giving up?"

Brennan looked up at him, puzzled. "No, not giving up, just taking a break. There's nothing else I can do today. I'm going to home to eat and sleep. I suggest you do the same."

Booth sighed, running a hand through his hair. She was right. It was just so frustrating. He decided he needed some distraction and she was just the person to provide it.

"How about I buy you dinner?"

She smiled at him. "Sounds good. There's a new Italian restaurant I'd like to try."

He smiled and took her arm. "Show the way."

CHAPTER 4

The restaurant was called Giovanni's and the parking lot was crammed with cars, always a good sign. They were able to get a small table at the back. The tables had creamy tablecloths and candles and the general atmosphere was cozy and romantic. They both ordered the penne pasta with Alf redo sauce and sipped a fine merlot as they waited. Brennan reached for his hand and squeezed it.

"You can excuse yourself from the case if it's too much for you, Seeley."

He looked away and swallowed, then met her eyes, determination etched in his face. "No, it's okay. I can handle it. I just...I just have to focus on the perp, not the victim. If I can do that, I can get the bstard that did it. I have to. If someone had done that to Parker, I'd...I'd move heaven and earth to bring them to justice." He blinked tears away and cleared his throat. "Nobody should get away with killing an innocent child." His voice cracked on the last word and Brennan squeezed his hand again.

"Put your heart in a box, Seeley, that's the best way to get through it. And give Parker extra hugs when you're with him, because he's a very lucky little boy to have a father like you."

Booth smiled at her and lifted her hand to his mouth, kissing her knuckles softly. "And I'm lucky to have you."

Their food arrived and they began to eat, though neither of them had much of an appetite. They worked at keeping the conversation light, making plans for the weekend and talking about the squints. Soon it was time to go and Booth guided her to her car. She turned before getting in and put her arms around his waist, resting her cheek against his chest. He embraced her, rubbing her back and laying his cheek against her soft hair. Pulling back a bit, he kissed her tenderly.

"Can I come over?" he asked, hoping for a yes but prepared to accept a no.

Brennan sensed his need and smiled up at him. "Absolutely. Follow me?"

He smiled too. "Anywhere. I'll see you there."

Brennan didn't bother with the lights when they opened the door, guided by the small light over the kitchen counter. Locking the door behind them, she caught his hand and led him to the bedroom. A night light in the bathroom spilled a soft glow into the bedroom, just enough to keep them from running into things as they slowly began to undress each other. By unspoken agreement their movements were unhurried, every caress tender and burgeoning with love. Brennan felt her heart expand and she looked up into his face with wonder. The expression on his face told her he was experiencing the same feelings. With a soft shuddering sigh she kissed him, putting it all into the kisses she gave him. With a groan he lowered her to the bed and held her tight, as though he never wanted to let her go...

The alarm went off at 5:30 a.m. Brennan slapped the snooze alarm, vaguely surprised she even knew where it was. She usually sprang out of bed to meet the day. But most days she didn't wake up from a night of mind blowing lovemaking with Booth. Rolling to her back, she looked at him, sleeping peacefully beside her. His mouth was slack and vulnerable looking, at odds with the beard stubble on his chin. She couldn't stop herself from running her hand down his cheek, smiling a bit at the rasp against her skin. His eyes blinked open and he smiled sleepily at her.

"Morning." He sighed. "Time zit?" he asked as he pulled her up close.

"5:30--we ought to get up," Brennan said regretfully as pleasure radiated from the circles his hands were drawing on her back.

"Mmmm, not yet," he murmured, kissing her temple, then her cheek and finally her lips. Brennan opened to his kiss, and another hour was lost to their passion.

The alarm clock was across the room where Booth had thrown it when the snooze alarm had gone off at an inopportune moment. Brennan had a fit of giggles when he did that, cut short when he crushed her lips in a passionate kiss. Now she lay on his chest as his fingers idly stroked her hair. Pushing up on her elbows, she frowned at him.

"If we don't get up now, we're going to be late, and that's hardly considered professional behavior, Agent Booth." Her stern tone was somewhat spoiled by the fact that she was naked in his arms.

Booth picked up his watch from the nightstand and squinted to see the face in the dim light. 6:40. Dam! She was right.

"Okay, you take a shower and I'll make the coffee." He kissed her once more and rolled out of the bed, pulling on his boxers. Brennan got up too and stretched.

"There are bagels in the breadbox and cream cheese in the fridge." Padding to the bathroom, she let out an uncharacteristic squeal when he swatted her behind.

"Who said I was making breakfast?" he teased, trying to take his eyes off her naked butt. She turned in the bathroom doorway and smiled sweetly.

"Please? I'll let you drive."

"Oh-ho, let me drive?"

She smiled impishly and closed the bathroom door. Booth couldn't stop grinning as he went into the kitchen.

CHAPTER 5

Booth dropped Brennan off at the Jeffersonian on his way to his office. She was only 15 minutes late, but Angela jumped her the minute she walked in, following her into her office.

"You're la-a-ate!" she sing-songed, a huge grin on her face.

Brennan sat down and booted her computer up, dropping her purse in a drawer. Angela sat on the corner of the desk and crossed her legs.

"Soooo, were you late for a fun reason? Or did you have a flat or some other equally mundane thing?" When Brennan kept avoiding her gaze, Angela grinned even wider. "You had some sheet time with Booth, didn't you? Tell me," she urged as Brennan busied herself punching in her password and opening her email.

Brennan gave a heavy sigh and faced her friend. It was obvious Angela wasn't giving up until she responded. "Yes, Booth slept over. This case is hitting him pretty hard and he needed me. Satisfied? Because I really don't feel comfortable discussing this at any length in my office. Booth and I are trying to keep our professional and personal relationships separate."

Angela rolled her eyes and smirked. "Sweetie, you two have never been able to keep them separate, what makes you think you're going to be able to now?" Brennan glared at her and turned back to her computer. "Okay, okay, Bren, I'll do my part to aid the cause, but if you slip don't expect me to be the voice of reason. I see no reason to be hyper careful. I mean, as long as you don't make out in the lab, I don't see the big deal." That earned her another glare and Angela responded with another smile, hopping off the desk and heading for the door. "Oh, and I should tell you, it's general knowledge that you guys are together, so there's no putting that cat back in the bag."

Brennan frowned, puzzled as to what cat Angela was talking about. "I don't know what that means, but Booth and I weren't trying to keep it a secret. We just didn't feel it was appropriate to make a general announcement."

"Whatever," Angela said, turning at the door. "I'm just glad you guys finally acted on those feelings you've kept under wraps for so long. You two are perfect for each other. See ya later."

Brennan was still frowning when Booth showed up an hour later. "Any progress on the case?" he asked without preamble, settling himself into the chair in front of her desk. She looked up distractedly from the email she was reading.

"Hmmm? Uh, I haven't made it to the lab yet. It's incredible how many emails piled up overnight." She typed a reply and hit send, then closed her email. Standing, she stretched, then reached for her lab coat. Booth got up and followed her out to the lab.

Terry was arranging the skeleton on the table, lips moving as he silently recited the correct order the bones went in. Hodgins was at one of the computers, studying data and talking quietly to Angela, who sat at the computer next to him. She was waiting for Zach to finish putting the flesh markers on the skull so she could enter the data in the Angelator. Conversation stopped and everyone looked up when Booth and Brennan came onto the platform. Brennan blushed a bit as she realized that Angela and Hodgins had probably been talking about her and Booth. Gloving up, she decided the best thing to do was get down to business.

"Terry, do you have the results of the tissue analysis?"

Terry jumped and blushed, flustered at being singled out first. "Y-yes, Dr Brennan. No evidence of any poisons or toxins of any kind. And the skeleton has no weapon marks either."

"Thank you, Terry. Hodgins, you have the soil and bug results?"

"Yes, Dr Brennan. I've confirmed time since death was 4 years, 2 months."

"Zach, when you finish applying the tissue markers, I need you to call the FBI forensics lab and see if they've finished their analysis of the trash bag."

Everyone set to work and Brennan stepped to the table the skeleton was laid out on, bending to begin her own examination. Not that she didn't trust her assistant, but sometimes a new pair of eyes, especially if they were hers, saw something the others missed. Booth stood with his hands in his pants pockets, as usual feeling a bit superfluous. He moved to stand beside Brennan, careful not to touch the table. He inhaled her special scent and tried to concentrate on the skeleton spread before him. It wasn't easy since his knowledge of the human skeleton was pretty limited. Brennan glanced at him as though she could read his mind and frowned, moving around to the other side of the table.

"Terry, did you notice the hairline fracture of the sternum?"

Terry colored and stepped closer to look where Brennan was pointing. "No, I'm sorry, Dr Brennan. Strange, I should have seen that," he muttered to himself, clearly embarrassed by his oversight.

Brennan looked closer. "That usually happens when someone performs CPR on someone, especially on a child. This implies the child's death may have been by accidental drowning. But if the child's death was an accident, why not call the authorities? Why bury the body in secret?" Brennan finally looked at Booth, who looked just as puzzled as she did. "We may not be looking for a murderer after all."

Booth shook his head. "We don't know that yet. You said it may have been a drowning. Isn't it possible someone had second thoughts about murder and tried to revive the victim?"

Brennan shrugged. "I suppose that's possible. We'll know more when we put a face and name to the victim and talk to their parents. Zach, is the skull done?"

"Yes, Dr Brennan, I just gave it to Angela."

Removing her gloves, Brennan headed back to her office. "Let me know when you have a face for me, Angela. I've got some paperwork that needs my attention."

Brennan sat down in her chair, startled to find that Booth had followed her into her office. He looked a little uncomfortable. "What is it, Booth? I really do need to get to this paperwork."

Booth stepped closer to her desk and kept his voice low. "Do THEY know you and I are, uh..." he trailed off, and Brennan's brain, which was still on the case, took a moment to shift gears.

"A couple?" she finished for him. He nodded and glanced over his shoulder as though one of them would pop in at any moment. "Yes, they know, Booth. It's okay. We had already decided not to try to keep it a secret, remember?"

"I know, I just didn't realize how weird it was going to feel. The squints knowing that you and I..." he trailed off, clearly having issues with the whole situation. Brennan smiled a bit and shook her head.

"You might as well get used to it. Maybe you need to bring it up at your next therapy session. Tuesday morning, isn't it?" Removing her lab coat she sat down at her desk and opened a file folder. Booth felt like he was being dismissed, but he probably should see about getting caught up on some paperwork himself.

"Well, call me as soon as Angela has something, will you?"

Brennan looked up at him and smiled, but he could tell her mind was on the file in front of her. "Sure, it'll probably be this afternoon sometime. See you later, Booth." And then she was gone, into her own world of forensics, where he couldn't follow. He told himself it didn't bother him that she could dismiss him so easily, but it did, just a bit. Hey, pal, he told himself as he walked out to his vehicle, that's how she's always been. You knew what you were getting when you signed on for this.

CHAPTER 6

They were all gathered around the Angelator, studying the 3D image of the victim. They all agreed she looked familiar and they were all racking their brains trying to remember where they'd seen her before. Angela was running the face through the missing children's database, but nothing had popped yet.

Terry suddenly snapped his fingers. "Emily...Emily Hawkins. It was all over the news four years ago. She was kidnapped right out of her bedroom in the dead of night. There was almost no physical evidence. The mother was their number one suspect, but there was no way to prove she had anything to do with it."

Just then Angela's computer beeped as it found a match. Angela smiled. "You're good, Terry. Right on the money. Mother's name is Connie Hawkins. I'll see if I can find a recent address." Working the keyboard like the pro she was, she found the information in no time at all.

Taking the slip of paper from Angela, Booth smiled. "Good job, Angela. I owe you one."

Angela smiled slyly. "Sorry, Booth, but I'm taken. You can buy Hodgins and me lunch sometime, though." Booth squeezed her shoulder and turned to talk to his partner, who was already headed to her office.

"Let me grab my jacket," she called over her shoulder. Booth shot his cuffs and straightened his tie. He felt his hopes rise. They were finally getting somewhere.

Connie Hawkins lived in a small apartment in a quiet middle class neighborhood across town. Booth and Brennan knocked on the door at 4:30 in the afternoon. A neighbor across the way cracked their door and looked at them curiously, then closed their door at Booth's sharp look.

Connie Hawkins opened the door a crack and eyed them suspiciously. "Yeah?"

Booth showed her his badge. "I'm Agent Seeley Booth and this is Dr Brennan. We need to talk to you about your daughter's disappearance."

The woman rolled her eyes and pulled the door open with an exasperated sigh. "I told you people everything at least 5 times. There's nothing else to add." She started to close the door, but Booth's hand stopped her.

"Ms Hawkins, I think you need to hear this." Something in his tone of voice or his face must have got to her, because she opened the door and stepped back, though her expression was annoyed.

Booth and Brennan sat on the couch and Connie Hawkins sat in the chair across from them. Her hands were clasped in her lap so tightly, the knuckles were white, her eyes darted back and forth between them.

"I'm sorry to tell you, we found your daughter buried under a tree in a churchyard." His eyes remained steady on her face, watching her every reaction.

Connie's hands flew to cover her mouth and tears filled her watery blue eyes. She started shaking her head as sobs racked her body. Booth and Brennan waited for her tears to slow. Booth found himself feeling sorry for the woman, in spite of the fact that he still considered her a suspect. "We're very sorry for your loss, Ms Hawkins," he said, meaning every word. Losing a child had to be devastating.

Brennan felt sympathy for the woman, too, but she had noticed something over Connie's shoulder. There was a small table against the wall covered with at least a dozen framed pictures of a blonde little girl, interspersed with trophies and several tiaras. It was a shrine to Emily, and Brennan was intrigued. The child had been gone for more than four years and still her mother kept this shrine in the front room as a constant reminder.

"Ms Hawkins, was Emily a performer?" Brennan asked.

Connie smiled through her tears and nodded. "A beauty contest winner. Three times my baby won first, twice a runner up. She made commercials and she was cast in a movie at the time she disappeared. She was a star," she finished softly, looking over at the shrine fondly.

"Did you have a life insurance policy on her?" Booth asked.

Connie looked startled by the question. "W-w-well yes, of course I did. I had a million dollar policy on her. I depended on the income from her appearances. I-I never collected it because we didn't know what h-h-happened to her."

"You could collect it now," Brennan stated matter-of-factly. Booth cleared his throat and stood, deciding to end the interview before they completely blew it.

Connie frowned at Brennan and gasped, "How dare you! I just learned my baby is dead, has been dead all these years, and you think I care about money?"

Booth grabbed Brennan's arm and started to drag her to the door. "We'll be in touch, Ms Hawkins. We will release the remains for burial as soon as humanly possible."

The door slammed behind them and Booth continued to pull Brennan along. She finally stopped in her tracks and rounded on him.

"Why did you do that? I had more questions for her!"

"Bones, your question was completely out of line! You essentially ended the interview when you said that."

"What? It was a perfectly logical thing to say," Brennan said, mystified.

Booth threw up his hands and continued to the car. They got in and Booth pulled away from the curb. Staring out the window, Brennan muttered, "Well, it was true. Ignoring the obvious doesn't help."

Booth shook his head. 'I give up' he thought. 'Sometimes I think I should put a muzzle on her.' The rest of the drive passed in silence as each of them thought about how the interview could have gone better.

CHAPTER 7

They were in a booth at Wong Foos eating when Brennan finally asked the question he knew was bothering her.

"Why did you get mad when I brought up the life insurance policy?" she asked.

"It was bad timing, that's all," Booth explained patiently. "I would have gotten around to it later in the interview, because I knew she would get defensive over it, essentially ending her cooperation. I didn't want to offend her until I had asked the rest of the questions I needed to ask."

Brennan still looked puzzled. "Why did she get offended? All I did was state a fact. And how did you know she would get offended?"

Booth sighed. "Even if it had occurred to her, she wouldn't want us to think she would think of the money at a time like that. It was a matter of presenting the right attitude toward her child's murder so that we wouldn't suspect she had anything to do with it."

Brennan nodded slowly, a frown between her brows. "Kind of like when I was a kid and I had friends come to my birthday party. Mom always told me to just set the gifts aside and pay attention to my friends, so they wouldn't think I was only happy to see them because they brought me a present."

Booth smiled a little and cocked his head at her. "You had birthday parties growing up?" She so rarely spoke of her childhood that he was intrigued.

Brennan shrugged, trying to make light of it. "A few times, if we had stayed in one place long enough for me to make some friends." Pushing her plate away, she took a sip of her drink. "Mom always tried to make things nice for me, normal."

Booth reached for her hand and squeezed it. Brennan smiled and returned the pressure.

"So, how are you going to get your questions answered? Do you think she'll talk to you again?"

"Of course she will. You know how charming I can be." Brennan rolled her eyes and smiled. "I'll give her some time to calm down, maybe try to talk to her again tomorrow." Lifting her hand to his mouth, he kissed it and smiled at her. "Ready to go?"

Brennan smiled and nodded and Booth threw some money on the table. He put his hand on her lower back and walked her to the car. "Coming over?" he asked softly. He couldn't explain it, but he needed her right now, even if it was only so he didn't have to be alone.

"Of course," she replied. She sensed he didn't want to be alone and she shared that feeling.

Booth put in a Phil Collins CD and turned it low, joining Brennan on the couch. She had kicked her shoes off and stretched her legs out across the cushions. Booth lifted her feet, sat down and held them in his lap, massaging the insteps. Brennan groaned as his fingers worked their magic, laying her head back on the arm of the couch. Phil was singing about "One More Night" and Brennan felt the tension slowly seep away, replaced by a delicious lassitude.

Booth kicked his own shoes off and moved up behind her, pulling her back against his chest, wrapping his arms around her and resting his cheek on her hair. He inhaled her unique scent and closed his eyes in contentment.

They lay that way for a long time, content to just be together, drawing peace from each other. Booth had never felt this way with anyone else, this rightness. He wondered if she felt it too. He was about to ask when he heard a soft snore from her. He smiled and snuggled her a bit closer. He'd ask her later. Right now his Bones needed to sleep. He finally drifted away too.

Brennan started awake, disoriented. What time was it? Why was she lying on the couch? And what was that god-awful sound?

She turned her head and saw Booth's profile in the corner of her eye. She was cradled in his arms, her back to his front, and his head was snuggled into the curve of her shoulder. The man was snoring pretty loud and she suspected that was what had awakened her. Grabbing his hand, she tried to lift it away from her middle, but his arm flexed and squeezed her tighter.

"Booth?" she said softly, not wanting to startle him. He snored on and she decided she had to be firmer. "Seeley!"

"Hmmm?" he grunted, turning his face into her hair. His breath tickled her ear.

"I need to use the bathroom," she said.

He sighed. "'K, go ahead. I'll wait here," he said without moving.

"Seeley, you have to let go. I can't get up with you holding onto me like this," she said reasonably, poking him in the arm to make her point.

Another sigh and he moved his arm. She rolled off the couch and headed for the bathroom.

Booth finally came fully awake when her absence registered in his subconscious. He rolled upright and scrubbed at his face. Pushing to his feet, he padded to the kitchen and looked at the clock. 5:35. Good, there was time. He was making coffee when Brennan came into the kitchen, adorably mussed but wide awake. He pulled her into his arms as the coffee brewed and kissed her. She responded with enthusiasm and he felt his passion stir. Running his hands down her back, he palmed her butt. She looked up and smiled.

"Do we have time for this?" she asked, looking around for a clock, reassured when she saw how early it was. Twining her arms around his neck, she kissed him again. He lifted her up and she put her legs around his waist. Cradling her butt, he headed for the bedroom as she started to laugh. He looked up at her, a smile quirking one side of his lips.

"What's funny?" he asked, mesmerized by the sparkle in her eyes.

"Just thinking about how hard it's going to be to be professional later with a mental picture of you carrying me like this stuck in my head," she confessed with a grin.

He smiled and put her down by the bed, his hands busy relieving her of her clothes. "You'll just have to manage somehow. It comes with the territory," he murmured, kissing her shoulder. Brennan shivered deliciously as goose bumps danced over her skin. She tried to frame a reply, but her brain had turned to mush as his lips moved up her neck to her earlobe. She ran her hands up his abs and chest, curling them over his shoulders and clinging as her knees turned to jelly. Falling onto the bed, they set about showing each other the depth of their love.

CHAPTER 8

Brennan and Booth walked into the lab together on time. Angela smiled at the pair, managing to stop herself from making any comment on their arriving together, but her expression spoke volumes.

"Dr Brennan," Terry said, "The tox screen came back positive for vicodin. It's hard to say how much."

Brennan frowned and Booth put his hands on his hips, dropping his head in sadness. Someone had drugged a four year old child. It didn't bear thinking of.

"Other than the fractured sternum, I found no other marks on the skeleton that could be attributed to any kind of weapon. It's possible she died of an overdose."

Zach handed a yellow envelope to Brennan. "Lab results from the FBI on the plastic bag. They recovered several partial prints which have been matched to the mother."

Booth straightened and looked at Brennan to see her reaction. Her face was pale and her mouth pursed into a thin line. He squeezed her upper arm. "I'll go bring Ms Hawkins in. You want to be in on the interview?"

Brennan blinked the sheen of tears from her eyes and nodded grimly. "I wouldn't miss it," she said firmly.

Booth pulled his gun and rapped on Connie Hawkins' apartment door. "Ms Hawkins? FBI, open up." He heard a click beside him and glanced over to see Brennan holding her cannon. He rolled his eyes and rapped again. "Ms Hawkins? I have a warrant for your arrest," he said louder. Silence from inside the apartment. Booth tried the doorknob. Locked. Stepping back, he kicked the door open. Stepping into the apartment, he swung the gun to the left then the right. "Ms Hawkins? FBI," he called again.

Brennan wrinkled her nose. "That smell--blood," she said, heading down the hall, following her nose.

Booth scrambled to try to get ahead of her. "Bones, try to remember I'm the FBI agent." He caught up to her at the doorway to the bathroom where she had stopped, shock on her face. Following her gaze, he felt his heart stop.

Connie Hawkins was sprawled in the bathtub, blood pooled around her. Both wrists were slashed. From the flies swarming around her, it was obvious she'd been dead for quite some time. Brennan looked at Booth, still with the shock on her face.

Booth was already on his phone, calling for a forensics team and the coroner. Snapping the phone shut, he sighed sadly. What a waste. Grabbing Brennan's arm, he pulled her away from the scene.

"Let's look around, see if she left a suicide note. Don't touch anything."

Brennan shot him a glare. "This isn't my first day on the job, Booth," she said sharply. "I know what to do."

Booth put his gun away. "Sorry, it was a reflex. I know you know how to behave at a crime scene. I'm just in shock."

Brennan nodded, accepting his apology and his explanation. Turning, she headed for the bedroom while Booth went into the kitchen. He found the handwritten note by the sink.

'Emily's death was my fault, but it was an accident. I just can't live with the guilt anymore. Connie'

"Bones, I found it," he called. She was beside him a moment later, reading the note over his shoulder.

"Looks like we found our murderer," Brennan said with no satisfaction.

Booth didn't reply, staring at the note. His gut was telling him something wasn't right. It was just too tidy. He wasn't against tidiness as a rule, just suspicious of it in this instance. He hoped forensics or the M.E. came up with something to tell him whether his gut was right this time.

"Booth? What's wrong?" Brennan asked. He was staring at the note suspiciously. His eyes finally met hers and she felt her apprehension rise. She could tell he wasn't buying the suicide scenario.

"I don't know yet. I'll tell you when the forensics team is done." Brennan looked at the note again, trying to see what he was seeing, but no luck. But if Booth's gut was telling him something wasn't right, she was willing to keep an open mind. His gut had been right often enough.

CHAPTER 9

Brennan was trying to concentrate on the file in front of her, but she kept seeing Connie Hawkins in a pool of blood. It wasn't the first bloody scene she'd ever seen, not by a long shot, so why did it haunt her so much? She rubbed her temples, trying once more to focus on the file before her.

Booth strode into her office and dropped into the chair in front of her desk. "It's going to be a few days before we have all the forensics results from Connie Hawkins' apartment. We have a team going over her phone and bank records, see if anything interesting pops there, but that could take a couple days too." Brennan closed the file and leaned back in her chair, rubbing her eyes. Booth stood and came around the desk, sitting on the edge near her.

"Temperance, what's wrong?" His voice was deep with concern for her. He didn't like seeing her so stressed.

Brennan dropped her hands in her lap and looked up at her partner. He was so--solid and he made her feel like nothing could possibly go wrong as long as they were together. She wished it were true.

"You don't think she killed herself, do you?" she asked.

Booth pursed his lips and shook his head. "I think she was killed for two reasons--to silence her and to provide a scapegoat. If forensics doesn't come up with anything, the killer just might get away with it," he finished. Leaning forward, he put his hands on the arms of her desk chair. "But I'm not throwing in the towel until the results from the crime scene have come back. And you shouldn't either," he added. Glancing over his shoulder to see if anyone was around, he leaned in closer and kissed her softly. Brennan was smiling a bit when he sat back.

"Agent Booth, that was very unprofessional behavior," she protested, but the words lacked conviction.

Booth smiled cockily and stood up. "I don't know what you mean. My partner was down and needed a little comfort. I was just..."

"Don't even TRY to tell me it was a guy thing, Booth, because I'm not buying it," Brennan teased, a full blown smile gracing her face. Booth's heart felt lighter as he returned her smile.

"You're right, doesn't sound plausible to me either. So, what do you say we go get Parker and get some dinner? It's Friday night and I get him this weekend."

Brennan stood and reached for her jacket. "Sounds great. Let's go."

CHAPTER 10

Brennan watched as Parker ate his macaroni and cheese with his fingers. Smiling, she picked up his fork and handed it to him. "It wouldn't be quite as messy if you used this," she said. Parker smiled at her as he took the fork. Picking up his napkin, she swiped at the cheese on his chin.

"But it isn't as much fun that way, Dr Bones," Parker said, grinning that Booth smile that captivated her so. Dabbing at another patch of cheese on his cheek, she tried to look stern.

"Eating with your fingers is bad manners," she said, and Booth chuckled as he finished chewing a mouthful.

"He knows that, Bones. Sometimes it's more about having fun than good manners." Brennan rolled her eyes at him and returned to eating her own dinner. Far be it for her to advise him on raising his son. She was no expert, she knew.

Booth noticed that Parker had started to play with the remaining chunks of ham on his plate. "Are you full, buddy?"

Parker nodded, picking up his glass of milk and finishing it off. Booth motioned at his top lip to indicate the milk mustache on his son's lip. Parker obediently picked up his napkin and scrubbed his mouth.

Brennan leaned back and put her napkin beside her plate. "I'm finished too. Ready to go?"

Booth stood and threw some bills on the table. "Sure, let's go."

Parker talked them into playing a game of 'Sorry!' when they got to Booth's place. Brennan hadn't played a board game since she was very young and found she was enjoying the simple game. Parker knew how to count very well for a four year old, albeit a bit slowly. But she found she wasn't impatient because she was completely captivated watching Booth's interaction with his son. He was very patient, teasing Parker when he sent one of his pieces back, crowing when the cards went his way and he was winning. He was like a big kid and she couldn't stop smiling at the obvious delight he took in playing with the boy. He was such a wonderful father, but that wasn't really surprising. Knowing Booth, his heart, his dependability, his generosity, it came as no surprise.

"Dr Bones! Dr Bones!" Parker's voice finally caught her attention. "It's your turn! You need to try to get Daddy or he's gonna win!"

Brennan looked at the board and saw that Booth's pieces were poised to win the game. She also saw that one of her pieces was in position to foil him. With a little smile she picked up the next card, laughing with delight when the right number came up.

"Yes!" Parker crowed, pumping his small fist into the air. Booth groaned as she moved her piece to send his back to the beginning.

"That's just not right!" Booth groused. "You weren't even paying attention."

Brennan smiled. "A valid move, just the same. Don't be a sore loser."

Booth looked insulted. "I'm not a sore loser! I just think it's unfair, since your mind was obviously elsewhere. What were you thinking of?" The smile returned, but his eyes studied her face carefully.

Brennan decided to tell him the truth. She didn't think he was told this often enough. "Just that I think you're a wonderful father. You should have more children."

His smile grew wider and there was a twinkle in his eye. "Thanks, Bones. That means a lot to me." Brennan's brows drew together, sensing that he might have misconstrued her meaning. Booth just kept smiling at her and she decided she'd have to ask him about it later when there wasn't an inquisitive child around.

Parker looked slightly puzzled, oblivious to the undercurrent between the adults. "Daddy, why are you smiling? You're losing!"

Booth smiled at his son and ruffled his curls. "It doesn't matter, bub, it doesn't feel like I'm losing. Let's finish the game. It's late and you still need a bath."

Parker slumped, then perked up as a thought came to him. "Can Dr Booth read me 'Green Eggs and Ham'?"

Booth glanced at Brennan and wondered what she would think of Parker's favorite story. "That's up to her."

Brennan had never read a book to a child and felt a little apprehensive. What if she did it wrong? Both of the Booth men were looking at her expectantly. "Sure, I'd love to."

Parker was bouncing up and down with excitement. "Yay. Okay, my turn." Booth smiled warmly at Brennan and she smiled ruefully back. 'What have I gotten myself into?' she wondered, and she wasn't thinking about her agreement to read a story to a little boy. Getting involved with her partner, who also happened to have a child, was a bit daunting. She hoped she was up to the challenge. The alternative was losing Booth, and that didn't bear thinking of.

CHAPTER 11

Booth and Brennan sat on the bed on either side of Parker, who held the book in his lap. Parker had decided that Brennan would read Sam's part and Booth would read the other character.

"The sign Sam is holding says 'I am Sam'" Parker said, pointing at the page with a chubby finger.

Brennan smiled and glanced at Booth. "That's very good, Parker. You can read that?" she asked, clearly impressed.

Parker rolled his eyes. "No, silly, Daddy told me. I won't know how to read 'til I go to school next year."

Brennan chuckled. "Okay, sorry. Shall we start?"

When Booth read his part, he made his voice low and growly, which made Parker snicker. Brennan, still a bit uncomfortable, started reading her part in her normal voice, but Parker stopped her.

"No, Dr Bones, like this," he said, then his voice went into a falsetto. "'Do you like green eggs and ham?'" His face was so serious, Brennan chuckled.

"I'll try, but I've never done this before," Brennan warned. This time she raised her voice an octave and Parker went into a fit of giggles. Brennan pretended to be hurt. "Did I do it wrong?" she asked. Booth smiled at her warmly and she couldn't maintain her hurt look. His smile faded as her gaze locked with his, and she grew warm at the love she saw there.

Parker's giggles trailed off and he looked up at her with a straight face, but the sparkle in his eyes betrayed his amusement. "That was good, a'most good as mommy. You jus' need more practice," he reassured her.

It took 10 minutes to get through the short book because they got into a discussion as to what the other character's name was. Parker insisted he didn't have a name and they went back through every page of the book to find out. Sure enough, Parker was right. The other character's name was never mentioned.

"How can you have a main character in a book and never name him?" Brennan asked, genuinely puzzled.

"Temperance, it's just a silly kid's book. Evidently the author didn't feel it was essential to the story." Booth closed the book and put it on the nightstand, pulling the covers up under Parker's chin. The boy's eyes were droopy and he was cuddling his favorite stuffed animal, a monkey named Sebastian. Booth bent to kiss and hug his son, whispering a soft "I love you".

Parker whispered "I love you, Daddy," then turned his head to Brennan. "Dr Bones, can I have a hug and kiss from you too?"

Her eyes bounced from Parker to Booth and a lump formed in her throat. Booth was smiling at her, and she could tell he was touched by his son's thoughtfulness. Parker didn't want her to feel left out. Bending over, Brennan kissed his forehead and he put his arms around her neck and squeezed. "Good night, Parker," Brennan said softly.

"Night, Dr Bones. Love you too," he murmured sleepily, and Brennan pulled back and headed for the door. Booth shut the light off and closed the door most of the way, following Brennan to the living room. She stopped short of the couch and Booth came up behind her and slid his arms around her, cradling her close.

"You okay?" he asked softly, the deep tenor of his voice sending goose bumps down her arms. She turned in his arms and snuggled into his warm, solid chest, nodding. When she finally turned her face up to him, her eyes were shiny with unshed tears.

"He's a really sweet little boy, Booth," she whispered with a catch in her voice. "You must be so proud of him."

"I am," Booth said. "You're very good with him, you know. You listen to him more than a lot of grownups do and he responds to that."

Smiling at the compliment, she cocked her head a bit. "He's very intelligent, like his dad. I enjoy talking to intelligent people."

They sat down on the couch together, Booth's arm around her as she cuddled into his side. Booth picked up the stereo remote and turned on the Phil Collins CD. 'You'll Be in My Heart' started playing and they relaxed, enjoying the peace of being in each other's company.

Thirty minutes later the CD ended and Booth clicked the stereo off and got up from the couch, pulling Brennan up to her feet. He could tell she was very tired as he took her hand and led her to the bedroom. At the side of the bed they undressed each other, laughing a bit when their hands got in each other's way. At one point her hands stilled as his mouth trailed down her sensitive neck, sending delicious goose bumps running down her legs.

Finally they made it to the bed, falling in a tangle of arms and legs, lips locked greedily, breathing labored, pulses racing. Whispered endearments and I love yous were interspersed with moans of pleasure and sighs of ecstasy. They finally slept, spoon fashion, each of them dreamless for once.

CHAPTER 12

A small hand patted her face and she cracked open one eye. Parker's face was inches from hers. "Dr Bones, why you sleepin' with Daddy?"

Still groggy, Brennan tried to come up with a reply suitable for a four year old's ears, but came up empty. Smiling uncertainly at Parker, intensely aware that she was naked under the covers, she surreptitiously pinched Booth's forearm where it lay around her middle.

"Ow! What the--" Booth growled, biting off the rest when he saw his son's curious face. He suddenly wide awake. "Hey, buddy, what's the matter?"

Parker hefted Sebastian and cocked his head at the grownups. "Why's Dr Bones sleepin' with you? Don't she have a bed?"

Booth chuckled a bit nervously. "She spent the night because she was too tired to drive home. Why don't you go watch cartoons while we get up? I'll make pancakes," he promised, hoping to distract the boy with his favorite breakfast food. Thank God it worked.

A delighted grin broke across Parker's face. "Goody! Okay, but hurry Daddy, I'm hungry!" And then he was gone.

Brennan turned in his arms. "Well, that was awkward. We should have locked the bedroom door."

Booth dropped a lingering kiss on her mouth. "I had other things on my mind. It's okay, he's easily distracted and he'll forget it before he's five minutes into his cartoons." I hope, he thought. His son's memory surprised him sometimes.

Brennan looked skeptical, but decided there was no point worrying about it. "I'm going to take a shower," she announced, but found her attempt to get up thwarted by a pair of strong arms. Meeting Booth's eyes, she blushed.

Booth's hands began roaming over her body, bringing her senses to screaming life. Then he was kissing her deeply, pulling her closer to his body, making her libido sit up and beg. But her mind was in disagreement. The thought of the little boy in the next room kept her from completely giving in. She finally managed to draw a breath to speak when Booth started kissing her neck, sending goose bumps skittering everywhere.

"Seeley, we can't, Parker could come in any minute," she protested softly, pushing at his shoulders. Booth finally drew back and sighed in frustration, knowing she was right. Resting his forehead against hers, he waited for his breathing to return to normal.

Kissing him briefly, she squirmed her way off the bed and made her escape. Booth opened his eyes in time to see her magnificent body disappear into the bathroom. Taking another moment to get control of his raging hormones, he got up and pulled on the pajama bottoms he only wore when Parker spent the night. With another glance at the closed bathroom door, he went to the kitchen and started the coffee.

Brennan sat at the table sipping her coffee, eating her pancakes without much interest. Parker was happily swinging his legs, eating with his fork and his fingers. Booth sat down next to her with his own plate and started eating. Parker was looking at her curiously and Brennan was dreading his next words. It turned out she was right to.

"Are you gonna marry Daddy?" he asked after he'd swallowed a mouthful.

Brennan's gaze collided with Booth's and she blushed for the second time that day and nearly choked on the bite in her mouth. Picking up her coffee, she bought time by taking a long sip. She glanced at Booth again, whose eyes were twinkling with mirth--she could tell he wasn't going to help her with this one. She was on her own.

Clearing her throat, she put her cup down and met Parker's curious stare. "I-I don't know yet. Why?"

Parker rolled his eyes and smirked. "'Cuz you were sleepin' with him and my friend Timmy says people who sleep together are married," he said with a four year old's simple logic. He speared another bite of pancake and shoved it in his mouth.

Brennan smiled uncertainly, looking at Booth again. How to answer without damaging the child's view of adult relationships and at the same time without giving Booth any hint of a promise? She was silent a long time, trying to work out the conflict.

Booth finally decided to let her off the hook--this time. "C'mon, bud, finish up. It's too early for such hard questions." Standing up to take his plate to the sink, he ruffled his son's hair and gave Brennan a lopsided grin that woke the butterflies in her stomach. Her relief was almost comical.

CHAPTER 13

The park was pretty crowded by the time they got there. Parker immediately dragged them to the swings.

"Push me, Daddy!" he demanded, hopping up on a swing. Booth complied and motioned for Brennan to get on the next swing.

"I don't need you to push me, Booth," she protested when his hand pushed on her behind.

"But I want to--it gives me an excuse to feel you up," he teased in a low voice. Brennan turned her head to roll her eyes at him and started pumping her legs to swing higher. Booth stayed out of the way, but found his gaze drawn to her over and over. Her hair was fluttering in the breeze and she looked over at Parker, smiling at the boy who was giggling with delight. Booth felt contentment flood his whole being. He was glad she and Parker seemed to be bonding. They both meant so much to him, he didn't know what he would have done if they hadn't clicked.

"Daddy, stop, I wanna go on the merry-go-round," Parker said. Booth stopped the swing and the boy hopped down, already running. Booth hurried to keep up and a moment later Brennan was beside him, slipping her hand into his. Booth grinned down at her and she smiled back, eyes sparkling.

"Having a good time?" he asked. She nodded and squeezed his hand. He squeezed back, then dropped her hand to swing Parker up on one of the horses. They sat on the bench to watch and Brennan took his hand again. She had just remembered something she needed to tell him. Now was as good a time as any.

"Booth, I got an email from my dad and brother the other day." She was afraid to look at him, afraid he would be angry. He was silent for so long, she wondered if he'd heard her and she finally forced herself to risk a peek. He wore a frown and he was staring off into the distance. Feeling her gaze, he met her eyes.

"I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. I figured they'd find a way to get in touch with you sooner or later."

"I-I meant to tell you before, but then the case came up and things got a little hectic and I forgot--"

Booth squeezed her hand. "It's okay, Temperance. I know you didn't deliberately keep it from me. I hope you trust me enough to tell me anything."

Brennan turned toward him on the bench. "Of course I do. I just--I don't want you to have to choose between doing your job and trying not to upset me. My heart wants them free, but my head says they're criminals and they belong behind bars, or at least my father does." The sympathy in his eyes was almost her undoing, but she shook her head stubbornly. "No, if you can, I want you to arrest them. It's the only thing your conscience will allow. I want you to know, I understand if it comes to that."

Booth took a deep breath and blew it out. "Let's hope it won't. No matter what you say, it would be very hard to arrest your father. I don't want to be the one to cause you more pain," he finished quietly.

They sat awhile longer, holding hands and watching the merry-go-round. Booth suddenly realized he hadn't seen his son go by for some time now. His heart stopped then resumed beating double time. Jumping to his feet, he raced to the railing, searching among the kids on the merry-go-round for Parker's dishwater blond curls. He broke into a run, making a complete circuit around the merry-go-round, shouting his son's name. He was nowhere in sight.

Brennan stood at the bench where he'd left her, eyes searching the crowd around them. When Booth came running up to her, naked panic on his face, her heart clenched with fear. If anything happened to Parker, she knew Booth would be inconsolable. They had to find him.

Booth stopped in front of her. "We need to split up, asked everyone you see if they've seen him. There are so many people here, someone had to see something!"

Brennan squeezed his arm. "We'll find him, Booth. Try not to worry." Stupid thing to say, Brennan, she scolded herself. Of course he's worried.

Going their separate ways, they moved quickly through the crowd, asking people if they'd seen Parker. Booth hit pay dirt about 50 yards from the merry-go-round. A pregnant lady nodded her head when he asked her. His breath seized up in his chest at her words.

"The man was carrying him. I thought it was odd because the boy was certainly big enough to be walking on his own and he was kicking his feet, wanting to be put down. They went that way," she said, pointing toward the parking lot. Booth took off at a run, shouting his son's name, terrified that he was too late.

CHAPTER 14

Brennan saw Booth take off running toward the parking lot and started running after him. She could only assume he'd found someone who had seen Parker. Putting on an extra burst of speed, she hoped she would be able to get there in time to help.

When the parking lot came into view, Booth saw a sight that stopped his heart. A man was struggling to put Parker into a blue sedan, but the little boy was putting up quite a fight. Suddenly he sank his teeth into the man's hand. Biting off a yell of pain, the man dropped Parker. Screaming at the top of his lungs, Parker lay on the asphalt, clutching his knee. The man spotted Booth and decided it was time to make his escape. He got in the car and took off.

Booth wished for his gun like he never had before, but he wasn't in the habit of carrying it when he was out with Parker. He tried to see the sedan's plates, but was only able to get the first three digits--SRL. He hoped that was enough.

Parker's screams had become sobs and he was still holding his knee when Booth came running up. Scooping his son up, he clutched him tightly, his heart slamming at the thought of how close he'd come to losing him. Parker wrapped his arms around his daddy's neck, wailing now that he was safe in Booth's arms. Booth made comforting noises, resting his cheek against his son's curls. Brennan came running up, and bent at the waist, breathing hard. Relief made her knees weak.

Booth pulled back a little. "You okay, bud? Did he hurt you?"

Parker looked up, tears streaming from his eyes. "M-m-my knee hurts from when h-he dropped me," he managed. Booth sat down on a nearby bench and pulled his son's pant leg up. Brennan sat down beside him, putting her hand on Parker's back because she needed to touch him, to assure herself he was okay. Parker's kneecap was badly swollen and bleeding a bit. His sobs had become hiccups as he leaned against Booth's chest.

"Daddy, I bit the man," Parker confessed tremulously. Booth hugged his son.

"That's okay, Parker. He was a bad man."

Parker looked up in confusion. "You tole me never bite," he said, looking for reassurance.

"It's okay this time. I would have done more than bite him if I'd had the chance," he muttered. Booth closed his eyes, allowing the relief to wash over him as he hugged his son tightly. Damn, that was close. Too close. Pulling his cell out, he called 911 and gave the operator their location and a brief account of what had happened. She assured him a unit would be dispatched immediately.

"Did you get the license plate?" Brennan asked quietly.

Booth's mouth was grim. "Just the first three digits. But I got the make and model, so it shouldn't be hard for the bureau to find the car." A cop car pulled up followed by the paramedics and for the next hour they answered questions while Parker's knee was cleaned and bound. By the time it was all over, the sun was beginning to dip below the horizon. Parker was asleep against Booth's shoulder, clearly worn out by the whole ordeal.

Brennan drove them to Booth's apartment, Booth in the passenger seat holding Parker close as he slept. He had never let his son ride in a car without restraints, but somehow he couldn't bring himself to let go. Every time he thought of the close call, a series of shudders coursed through his body. He'd find the bstard and make him pay for scaring them so badly.

Brennan opened the door and led the way to Parker's room, turning on the lamp by the bed and pulling back the covers. Booth gently laid him on the bed, and the tenderness on his face brought a lump to her throat. He loved his son so much. She didn't even want to think about his reaction if anything ever happened to him.

Removing the boy's shoes, he pulled the covers up and kissed him tenderly. Parker stirred a little, a frown between his brows. Booth silently cursed the S.O.B. who'd put it there.

CHAPTER 15

Brennan and Booth sat on the couch, eating the turkey sandwiches she had made. The TV was on low, on a news program neither of them was really watching. Booth was reliving the day's terrifying events and Brennan was trying to give him some space, sitting quietly and trying to lend him support. Booth put down the rest of the sandwich and put the plate on the coffee table, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

"I'm gonna check with the Bureau. They gotta have something on the plates by now," he said, pulling out his cell phone. Brennan stayed his hand.

"Booth, they'll call when they have something. You've already called four times. They know how important this is to you," she told him gently. His tortured gaze met hers and her heart went out to him. He was a man accustomed to action. The wait was eating him up.

"I know, I just don't get why it's taking so damn long. All they have to do is feed the info into the computer and wait for it to do its thing. It's not rocket science, for God's sake!" Unable to sit still another moment, he jumped up and started pacing, hands fisted at his sides. Suddenly the cell phone rang.

"Booth," he snapped. His frown deepened as he listened and Brennan's heart took a nose dive. "You're sure?" he demanded sharply. Closing his eyes, his voice softer, "Sorry, of course you are. Thanks for getting back to me." Closing the phone, his head dropped forward and he cursed softly. Rising to stand beside him, Brennan put her hand on his back. His eyes met hers and her heart broke at the defeat she saw there. "The plates must have been stolen. It's a dead end."

Brennan searched her mind for something comforting to say and couldn't think of a thing. This was the worst possible news. Booth resumed pacing, frustration making his movements jerky. She watched him warily, unsure how to deal with a violently angry Booth. She'd seen him angry before, but this...

Suddenly he punched the wall, leaving a slight dent in the drywall. His shoulders were heaving and Brennan's heart broke for him. She felt helpless, not a feeling she was accustomed to having. She didn't like it. She approached him cautiously and touched his back again. He turned and pulled her into his arms, clutching her tightly. Putting her hands to his head, she pulled his face into her shoulder and held him just as tightly. They stood that way for an endless moment. He was the first to pull back.

"Damn, I forgot to call Rebecca. She's going to be furious," he said. Picking up the house phone, he started dialing. Brannan picked up the dishes and went to the kitchen to give him some privacy. She was making tea when he came into the kitchen.

"Rebecca is coming to get Parker in the morning. She's--she's going to take him to her mother's to stay until this is all over. She's pretty shook up," he said, all the heat drained from his voice.

"Well, that's a good idea, don't you think? At least he'll be safe there," Brennan said quietly. The separation would be hard on Booth. Being unable to look to his son's safety personally would be difficult as well, but he would also be free to fully concentrate on the investigation.

Booth nodded reluctantly. "She didn't say it was my fault, but I could tell she was thinking it. And she's right. I feel responsible. I should have been watching him."

Brennan felt her temper rise. "Don't be silly! You were watching him! It all happened so quickly, nobody could have prevented it," she insisted. She stepped closer to him, looking up into his face, forcing him to meet her eyes. "You are a wonderful father and you weren't responsible. It could have happened to anyone."

Booth gave her a wry grin a fraction of the wattage of the usual Booth charm smile. "You keep telling me that, I just might start to believe it." He hugged her close and sighed. "Ah, Temperance, I'm so glad you're here--I don't think I could handle this without you."

Brennan pushed back and looked up into his face. "Yes, you could. You're one of the strongest people I know."

He shook his head. "Well, I wouldn't want to find out. I haven't felt all that strong today."

Tea forgotten, they made their way to the bedroom. They silently got ready for bed and lay under the covers, spoon fashion, content to hold and be held. Booth woke from nightmares several times and Brennan comforted him, reassuring him that Parker was safe. An hour before dawn they finally slept without dreams.

CHAPTER 16

Brennan woke slowly, vaguely aware she was alone in the bed. Rolling to her back, she looked around blearily. Running her hand over his pillow and finding it cold, she guessed he had been gone for quite some time. The clock said 5:40 a.m. The delicious aroma of fresh coffee cleared the rest of the cobwebs from her mind and she rolled out of bed. She pulled on jeans and a T-shirt and went into the kitchen. Pouring herself a cup of coffee, she went to the living room, finding it empty. She knew there was only one more place Booth could be.

Parker's door was ajar, but the room was dark. Brennan slipped into the room and looked toward the bed, her heart expanding at the sight before her. Booth was curled on his side, almost completely surrounding his son, who was curled into a tight ball. Booth's eyes were fastened on his son's face as the boy slept, an incredibly tender look on his face. Sensing her presence, he looked up at her and smiled softly. She smiled back, tears forming a hard lump in her throat.

Making a 'stay' motion with her hand, she slipped back out and went back to the kitchen to make breakfast. Not feeling ambitious enough to make pancakes, she settled for french toast. It was almost ready when the Booth men finally made an appearance. Parker's hair was sticking up in three places and there was a pillow mark on his left cheek. Booth looked incredibly sexy in a pair of jeans and white tank and she found her thoughts wandering in a direction it shouldn't go with a four year old around. Whoa, Brennan, down girl! she scolded herself. Booth's grin told her he'd read her mind and she blushed.

Parker sat at the table and took a gulp of milk. "Pancakes?" he asked.

"French toast, bud. Brennan's favorite," Booth lied, trying to head off any complaint. He should have had more confidence in his son's good manners.

"Mmmm, I like french toast," Parker said, digging in as soon as Brennan put his plate before him. Booth smiled at his son and then turned the smile on her. Her heart did a mad dance as she smiled back, putting a plate in front of Booth and sitting down with her own. The man's charm exceeded the legal limit, she decided.

later...

Brennan was blow drying her hair, so she missed the doorbell. Finished at last, she started down the hall toward the living room. Rebecca was kneeling on the floor, clutching Parker, who was struggling against her smothering hug. Rebecca's seemed oblivious to her son's struggles, needing to hold him for the moment.

Booth stood to one side, hands in his pockets, looking awkward. Brennan stopped just inside the doorway as Rebecca finally set Parker away from her so she could look him over. "Are you okay, baby?"

Parker looked puzzled, his four year old mind already moving past yesterday's trauma. "Sure, Mommy. Dr Bones made french toast and I cleaned my plate even though it's not my favorite. Dr Bones slept in Daddy's bed and they might get married."

The grownups all shifted, avoiding each other's gazes, embarrassed at the boy's bluntness.

"And oh, yeah, I got a big ban-age on my knee from when the bad man dropped me. Wanna see?" He proceeded to pull up his pant leg and Rebecca bent to examine the bandage. Booth finally looked at Brennan, giving her a look that seemed to say "I'm sorry". Brennan shook her head, unwilling to let him off the hook that easy. 'Later' she mouthed.

"Go get your backpack, honey. We're going to Grandma's," Rebecca told her son. Parker lit up like Christmas morning and sped off to grab his stuff. Rebecca stood and faced Booth. Brennan could tell there were things she wanted to say, but wouldn't with her around. Brennan decided she wasn't going to make it easy for her--Booth didn't need any more grief over what had happened.

Parker came barreling back into the room and stopped in front of his dad. Booth bent to hug him. "Be good, 'kay bud? I'll see ya in a couple weeks."

"'kay Daddy. You be good too." Breaking away from Booth, he turned to motion at Brennan to bend down. Wrapping his arms around her neck, he hugged her, then whispered a bit too loudly, "It's okay if you marry my daddy." Her gaze darted to Booth's then slid to Rebecca, who wore an indecipherable look.

Brennan laughed nervously and patted Parker's back. "See ya, Parker. I had fun this weekend," she said truthfully. Except for the part where you were almost kidnapped, she added silently.

"Me too. Well, bye!" Grabbing his mom's hand, he started pulling her toward the door.

"Uh, I'll call when we get there so you can say goodnight to Parker," she promised. Booth smiled a bit and nodded, waving as they walked away. He closed the door when they were out of sight and stood a moment in the silence. Brennan walked up to him and wrapped her arms around his waist, laying her head on his chest. He folded her into his arms and laid his cheek on her hair, sighing. They stood that way for a long time.

CHAPTER 17

It was Sunday afternoon. Brennan was cuddled up against Booth on the couch, a throw over both of them, watching a football game. The Philadelphia Eagles were losing to the Washington Redskins, which put Booth in a foul mood. Brennan was doing her best to comprehend the rules of the game, with Booth answering her questions as patiently as possible, but she couldn't seem to get past the violence inherent to the sport. Between the questions and the distracting things her proximity was doing to him, Booth was finding it difficult to concentrate on the game. He finally shut the television off halfway through the fourth quarter with the Eagles 24 points behind. There were better ways to spend a Sunday afternoon, he decided.

"Hey, why did you shut it off?" Brennan protested. In answer Booth pulled her up across his lap and started nibbling on her neck. She groaned a little breathlessly at the wonderful sensations that were radiating from the spot he was nibbling. She giggled a little when he hit a ticklish spot and he pulled back to look at her. Her breath caught at the intensity in his eyes.

"Beautiful," he murmured, then he kissed her deeply and she lost all concept of time.

She heard a faint ringing sound and wondered vaguely what it could be. It stopped, then started again. Pulling back, she smiled ruefully. "I think that's your cell," she said regretfully.

Booth cursed softly and started digging in the couch cushions for his errant cell phone. He found it between the last cushion and the arm. "Booth," he muttered, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice. Something the caller said made him sit up straighter, then he was on his feet. "Where? he asked and started taking notes on the scrap of paper he'd pulled from his pocket. "We'll be there in thirty. Keep everyone clear of the site." Snapping the phone shut, he stood with his back to her.

"Booth? Do we have another case?" Brennan asked, a little puzzled about his behavior. Usually a call like that galvanized him to action, but he just stood there.

He sighed and slowly turned, and Brennan felt her heart sink. His next words confirmed her suspicions. "We have to go. They found another child's body in a churchyard." Brennan got up and went to him, laying her hand on his arm. His eyes were weary. "They think we have a serial killer. The scene is identical to the one we found the other day."

Brennan closed her eyes, taking a moment to grieve for the new victim. When she opened her eyes, she was all business. "I need to get my kit from my office." He nodded, but didn't move as he stared off at nothing. Brennan squeezed his arm. "Booth, we have to go."

He finally snapped out of it. The best thing to do was focus on what needed to be done. Grabbing his coat and his keys, he waited while she got her purse and jacket, then they were on their way.

CHAPTER 18

The scene was a repeat of the last one. The partially exposed remains, the caution tape, the area swarming with agents and looky-loos, it was all disturbingly the same. Booth and Brennan approached the area with dread because they knew what they would find.

Crouching by the remains, Terry was snapping pictures from all angles. Brennan dropped her kit beside him and crouched down too.

"I need you to start exposing the body so we can get it ready for transport," she instructed Terry, her eyes taking in the condition of the burial site. Terry nodded and put the camera away, taking out a spade and small brush. Brennan collected soil and insect samples.

Booth stood off to one side, feeling unnecessary. There really wasn't anything for him to do but get in the way and make a pest of himself. He was almost relieved when his cell phone rang.

"Booth," he answered. "No, he's at his grandmother's house up in Buffalo. Yeah, I'm sure. Really? When?" he asked with growing alarm. Brennan looked up at his tone of voice. Something was very wrong. Booth was frowning and his gaze locked with hers as he listened. Apprehension began to build in her as his mouth turned grim and she stood up and took a step toward him. "Okay, we'll be right there." Snapping the phone shut, he stood there stiffly, obviously trying to control some powerful emotion. "Bones, we have to go. I'll explain on the way."

"But Booth, I need to finish here—" she protested.

"I need you to come with me, Bones," he interrupted firmly. She would have continued to argue, but something in his eyes told her his need for her was more than professional.

Turning to Terry, she spoke low. "If you don't think you can handle this alone, call Dr Addy. He'd have to have someone drive him, but I don't want any mistakes."

Terry straightened his shoulders proudly, glad she was willing to trust his judgment. "I can do it, Dr Brennan. You can count on me," he assured her, suppressing an inappropriate smile and rising excitement at the prospect of processing a crime scene on his own for the first time. Brennan studied him for a moment then nodded.

Back in Booth's SUV, Brennan waited for him to explain. As they pulled onto the street, he spoke, still grim. "They found a small boy's body in another churchyard. This one's only been dead a day or so. He—he—" Booth stammered, and Brennan was alarmed to see a tear spill down his cheek. Reaching over, she squeezed the hand that lay fisted on his thigh. Darting a grateful look at her, he cleared his throat and continued. "He looks like Parker. They think it was done by the same killer."

Brennan gasped in shock, her thoughts running in circles, trying to figure out what it might mean. Was it just a coincidence? Parker almost getting kidnapped, then a day later a little boy just like him showing up dead? What kind of sick game was this bstard playing? Her mind was reeling at the possibilities.

"They want me to come and make sure it isn't—my son," he said, his voice breaking. Another tear rolled down his cheek. "Do me a favor?"

"Of course, anything," she said quickly, shaken by the emotion in his face.

"Call Rebecca, make sure he's still at his grandma's," he said, handing her his phone.

Brennan took the phone and scrolled through the phone book, finally found Rebecca's number and dialed it. It went to voice mail after four rings. "Rebecca, this is Dr Brennan, would you please call Booth as soon as you get this message? It's very important." She hit end and Booth closed his eyes briefly, cursing softly.

Arriving at the church, Booth and Brennan slammed out of the car and moved swiftly toward the area surrounded by agents. A coroner's van was already on the scene. Brennan wanted to hold Booth's hand, but now wasn't the time. Booth picked out the man in charge and flashed his FBI creds.

"Special Agent Booth. I need to see the body," he said in a monotone, holding onto his self control by a thread. The agent looked over at the body and back at Booth.

"You don't have jurisdiction here, Agent Booth. This is my case." Brennan opened her mouth to protest when comprehension dawned on the guy's face. "Wait, you're Booth, the one they think may be the father of—" he trailed off as Booth shot him a furious glare. "Follow me," he said quietly, leading them through the crowd.

Brennan stayed right behind Booth, wanting to be right there with him in case the worst happened. The thought that it might be Parker chilled her to the bone and she hoped fervently that it wasn't. It couldn't be. Booth wouldn't allow it.

The coroner pulled back the sheet that had been draped over the small body. Brennan moved to stand beside Booth. The body lay in a shallow grave. Bruises on the neck indicated the cause of death was strangulation. The boy had dishwater blonde curls so similar to Parker's, she felt her heart stop. Booth stepped closer and dropped to his knees for a closer look. When his head dropped forward and his shoulders slumped, she feared the worst.

"It's not him," Booth said with a strange mixture of relief and sadness. She leaned forward and squeezed his shoulder as tears welled in her eyes. Poor little boy. Poor man.

The coroner covered the body up again and Booth finally stood, barely controlling the urge to pull her into his arms right there in front of everyone. They made their way back to the SUV and got in, sitting there trying to take it in. It wasn't Parker.

Booth reached for her at the same time she moved toward him and then they were in each other's arms. Fresh tears streaked her face as she felt his shoulders shaking, sobs racking his body. Stroking his back, she made soothing sounds. They stayed that way for a long time. Finally Booth pulled back and wiped his face with hands that were shaking. Brennan pulled some tissues from her purse and handed him one, using one herself.

Starting the car, Booth looked at her with a fierce look. "This bstard's gonna pay," he said savagely.

Brennan nodded, smiling grimly. "Damned right he is," she agreed.

CHAPTER 19

He watched from the crowd, which was unusual for him. He didn't usually care about the people who processed the crime scene. They'd never find enough evidence to figure out he did it, he was so careful and so much smarter than any of them. But this time was different. He wanted to see Booth's reaction and he wasn't disappointed.

The woman with him, she was the same one who'd been with him at the park. He wondered what their relationship might be. He knew Booth had been at another of his crime scenes when he'd been called away to this one, so she must be a colleague. She looked familiar somehow, like he'd seen her someplace other than the park yesterday.

Craning his neck, he watched as Booth knelt by the body, saw his head drop forward and his shoulders slump, and felt a thrill. This was good, nearly as good as it would have been if it had truly been Booth's son. He felt a flash of anger at that failure, but pushed it aside so he could enjoy this. Agent Booth was leaving, the woman just a step behind him.

Moving casually to the outer edge of the crowd, he watched as they got into the SUV. They didn't drive away, though. He almost crowed with glee as he watched them embrace. Not a colleague then, a girlfriend. Time for a little more research. He had to find out who she was and figure out if he could use her to make Booth squirm some more. Because he wanted him to squirm, to suffer.

As Booth started to pull away from the curb, Brennan put out a hand to stop him. "Why don't you let me drive?" He opened his mouth to argue, then looked at his hands, trembling on the steering wheel. Throwing the vehicle into park, he got out and switched places with her. The fact that he didn't argue told her just how badly shaken he was. She made a decision without consulting him.

Lost in his dark, tortured thoughts, Booth didn't notice where they were going until they'd pulled up in front of her apartment building.

"Bones, what are we doing here? We need to get back to the crime scene," he protested as she put the car into park. Turning the engine off, she pocketed the keys.

"It's already covered, Booth. We need to take a breather, get our perspective back." She got out and headed to her apartment. He had no choice but to follow her if he wanted to continue their discussion.

"Bones, c'mon, I'm fine. The best thing for me right now is to get to work on the case so we can catch the bad guy before he kills again."

Opening her front door, she turned to look at him. He did seem to be better now. "We're here now, let's just have something to drink, cool out a bit."

"You mean chill out," he corrected automatically. "Okay, but give Terry a call, make sure everything's under control."

While Brennan called her assistant, he pulled out a couple of glasses and a pitcher of iced tea. Filling the glasses with ice and tea, he carried them into the living room where Brennan sat on the couch.

"Good. Get Hodgins on the soil and bugs right away. And have Zach assist you with the preliminary examination of the remains." She paused to listen and Booth sat beside her. "I know you can handle it yourself, but it doesn't hurt to have another pair of eyes on it." Brennan's gaze slid to Booth and she smiled a little, rolling her eyes. "Terry, if I didn't think you could handle it, I wouldn't have left you there alone. Just make sure you document everything carefully and Booth and I will be there in an hour or so. Okay? Bye." Hitting the end button and putting the cell phone on the coffee table, she picked up her tea and took a long gulp. Setting her glass down, she turned to look at him. The sadness in his eyes tore at her heart. Taking his hand, she squeezed it.

Sighing, Booth tugged her hand, pulling her up to his side. She laid her head on his shoulder, looking down at their joined hands. Booth's thumb was stroking hers, over and over in a reflexive motion. She looked up at him. He was staring at nothing, his thoughts going over the day's events, examining them from every angle. He felt her gaze and his eyes met hers.

"I can't stop thinking about that little boy," he confessed hoarsely. "I was so relieved it wasn't Parker, I feel guilty."

Brennan frowned. "It was a natural reaction, Seeley. It doesn't mean you don't care. And it doesn't diminish the horror of what was done to that little boy." She put her hand to his cheek, forcing him to look her in the eye. "The fact that you feel guilty shows how much you care."

Tears welled in his eyes again and suddenly he grabbed her close. She clutched at him, stroking his head as his tears wet her hair. Finally he drew a shaky breath and pulled back. "I don't deserve you," he whispered with a small smile.

Brennan smiled too. "Yes, you do. You're a good man, Special Agent Seeley Booth. The best." Then she kissed him tenderly and she felt the tension seep from him. They sat together for a long while, until they knew it was time to go.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 20

Booth woke, groggy and disoriented, his head muzzy as though filled with cotton. Sitting up slowly, he looked around Brennan's living room, searching his memory for some hint of what had happened. He remembered that they had come to her place after spending a fruitless handful of hours at the Jeffersonian. He saw the pizza that had been delivered on the coffee table. His plate lay on the floor, his slice of pizza half eaten. Brennan's was on the end table. Liking his dry lips, he tasted something odd. A drug? He wasn't sure.

Clearing his throat, he tried to speak her name, but it only came out as a croak. He tried again. "Temperance?" Better, but still not loud enough. Pushing to his feet, he shouted, "Bones?" His voice echoed through the apartment and came back to him unanswered. He stumbled to the kitchen and poured a glass of water, gulping it down. Feeling a little steadier, he went down the hall to her bedroom. The room was deeply shadowed, but he could see by the light from the hall that the bed was empty. So was the bathroom. Panic rose inside him, suffocating in its intensity.

An idea was trying to push its way through the fog in his brain and he stood still, breathing deeply, willing it to clarity. Cell phone, call her cell phone, it urged. He walked carefully, hand trailing the wall against the dizziness that was threatening to overcome him. He found his cell phone on the coffee table and snatched it up, hitting the number one in the speed dial for her number. A random thought—of course her number would be number one on his phone, a symbol of her importance in his life.

A faint ringing registered in his brain, and he looked toward it, at the purse that lay on the kitchen counter. Her purse was ringing. Then he realized the significance of the presence of the purse, here, on the counter and the ringing. She'd never leave without her purse. So where was she?

"Temperance?" he called out again, and again there was no answer. He hit 'end' on his phone, then dialed Angela.

"Hi Booth," Angela said.

"Have you seen Brennan? Has she called you?" he asked without preamble, praying silently.

"I thought she was with you," Angela answered, confused.

Booth's eyes closed, his heart stopped and he sank to the couch. "She's gone, Angela. I think someone drugged us and took her." Angela gasped and Booth forced himself to continue. "Can you call a forensics team to Brennan's? I need them to process the scene, see if there might be some clue where she was taken." He didn't recognize his own voice, it was toneless and dead.

"Oh, my God, oh no, oh…" Angela put her hand over her mouth and sank to a chair, tears falling quietly, and Hodgins looked up from the magazine he was reading on the couch. Seeing the tears, he got up quickly and came to her, taking her outstretched hand. "It's Brennan, Booth thinks she's been kidnapped."

Hodgins' eyes widened and his mouth fell open. The world tilted and he dropped to the chair next to her. He listened as Angela hung up with Booth and called a forensics team to Brennan's. Then she was on her feet, gathering her purse and coat.

"We have to go, Booth's alone at Bren's. He needs us, whether he'll admit it or not."

Hodgins agreed, grabbing his coat and following her out.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 21

He could tell by the change in the rhythm of her breathing that she was awake. He admired her self control. She was smart, too. She didn't open her eyes or move at all, and he knew she was trying to figure out where she was and what had happened without letting on that she was conscious. He waited patiently. She would have to open her eyes eventually. Her breathing picked up some more when she discovered that she was bound tightly hand and foot and then she opened her eyes to glare at him. He smiled at her delightedly.

"Hello," he greeted her pleasantly as though they were meeting at a social event. She frowned and wet her lips, her gazing bouncing from him to the walls around them and then finally back to him. She had beautiful eyes. He could see why Agent Booth was so taken with her. He picked up a bottle of water and held it to her lips and waited while she took a couple sips.

"Who are you?" she croaked. He tipped the bottle so she could take another sip, then sat back.

"Let's not bother with that right now," he said, reveling in the power he held over her. "Let's just say I'm an admirer of your Agent Booth," he teased. "He's your boyfriend isn't he?"

Brennan frowned again and her color came up and he knew she was going to lie. That made him angry. "N-no, we're partners, we solve crimes together. I'm a forensic anthropologist for the Jeffersonian."

He shook his head sharply. "I saw you embrace. He loves you, I could tell," he insisted.

"I don't know what you think you saw, but you're wrong, we're just friends."

Suddenly he was furious. "Liar! I saw, you hugging and crying and later he went to your place and you went in together. I saw you kissing!" Breathing hard, he got up and grabbed the leather strap off the table. 'Thwack!' She bit back a cry as the strap hit her thigh, leaving a burning line of fiery pain. "Every time you lie to me, that's what you'll get!" Just as sudden as the fury had come, it was gone. He laid the strap back on the table and sat down again. "Now, where were we? Oh, yes, you were telling me how much your Agent Booth means to you."

Brennan closed her eyes, willing back the tears that threatened. Hurry, Booth, she thought desperately. I know you're looking for me, just hurry. She opened her eyes to see her captor looking at her with fascination. He looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn't place him. Her mind was still foggy from the drug. She looked around the tiny room again, struggling to make sense of the situation. Why had he kidnapped her?

"Nobody's going to pay a ransom, I have no family," she told him, and he laughed.

"You think this is about money? You're wrong. I don't need money. This is about payback, my dear. Your Agent Booth has to pay for what he's done. Now, don't worry, nobody's going to disturb us here. This is a secret room, completely soundproof, so you can talk, yell, whatever, you aren't going to disturb anyone. Isn't that cool?" He rubbed his hands together in excitement, a wide smile on his face. 'This guy is completely insane' she realized with a chill, and for the first time she felt fear. There was no reasoning with a 'psycho' as Booth would call him.

"Where did he send his little boy?" he asked, and Brennan's eyes darted to the strap. Her thigh still stung, but there was no way she was telling him.

"He sent him to a friend in New York City," she lied.

'Thwack!' This time she couldn't prevent a hiss from escaping at the burning pain.

"Lie to me again and I'll tear open the back of your shirt and start leaving marks on your back. I know when you're lying," he shouted, the fury back in full force. Brennan took deep breaths, fighting back tears at the searing pain.

The pleasantness façade was back. "Never mind the boy, I'll find him. Now, what do you think Booth will do next?"

Brennan's eyes met his. "He's going to kill you when he finds us," she promised coldly.

His eyebrows shot up and he laughed as though she'd told a funny joke. "Oh-ho! You think so, huh? But see, he has to find us first! And I've already taken steps to ensure that he won't. I've left some false clues and he'll be busy chasing them for quite some time. When he does find us, when I want him to find us, I'll be ready. Then we're going to have some fun," he finished with glee.

Tears formed a hard lump in her throat and she closed her eyes. 'Hurry, hurry, hurry, Booth,' she chanted to herself. When she opened her eyes, she was alone.


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 22

Hodgins and Angela arrived at Brennan's to find Booth pacing the living room, his cell phone to his ear. The forensics team, comprised of three men and a woman, were working quietly. Angela guessed from the glances they were throwing at Booth from time to time that he'd been riding them harder than she knew he rode Brennan at a crime scene. She felt a flash of sympathy for them.

"I know he just got there, but I need to talk to him," Booth said, the strain in his voice almost unbearable to hear. He listened for a moment, his free hand clenching and unclenching. "Okay, just make sure you've finished treating him by the time I get there. I want to question him and I'm not in the mood to wait." Snapping the phone shut, he stood with his head bent for a moment.

Angela approached him cautiously, then touched his back gently. Turning, he looked at her and her look of sympathy was his undoing. He grabbed her to him roughly, dropping his face to her shoulder as he cried for the first time since regaining consciousness. Angela stroked his hair, tears streaking her own cheeks as Booth, one of the strongest men she knew, cried in her arms. Hodgins stood off to the side, hands buried in his pockets, tears in his own eyes.

Booth finally pulled away, wiping at his cheeks, unable to meet anyone's eyes. Clearing his throat, he gestured helplessly. "We don't know anything yet," he said, his defeated tone heartbreaking. Angela knew he needed to work past the grief to get to the anger which would drive him to work the case and find Brennan. She wanted to help him get to that point quicker.

"Who is at the hospital?"

Booth took a deep breath. "The pizza delivery guy. They found him unconscious in the bushes near the parking lot. I've gotta go, I've gotta question him, find out what happened. He had to see who attacked him." Then he was moving, grabbing his coat and his car keys, heading for the door. Angela motioned at Hodgins.

"Hodgins is going with you, Booth. You shouldn't be driving," she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. Booth turned and handed the keys to Hodgins.

"I'm only letting you drive if we take my vehicle. I'm not riding in that little toy you like to call a car," he said with a glimmer of a smile.

"Hey, don't knock my car. It gets me where I need to go and the gas mileage is killer," Hodgins protested, feigning an injured look. "Unlike that gas guzzler you drive…" Hodgins continued to harass Booth as they went down the walk. Angela found herself smiling in spite of the grave situation. If anyone could divert Booth's attention, it was Hodgins. She just hoped he'd take it easy on the guy. She didn't want them to come to blows over one of Hodgie's conspiracy theories.

The forensics team was packing up. Angela looked around her friend's disheveled apartment. Brennan's absence left a vacuum so palpable, Angela shivered. She picked up the plates and glasses and carried them to the kitchen, washing them and leaving them on the drain board. Working quickly, automatically, she tidied the apartment, coping with her anxiety the only way she knew how. By the time she was done, she felt much calmer and prepared to deal with her friend's disappearance.

Booth bullied his way into the emergency triage room where the pizza delivery guy was being treated. The poor guy lay against the pillow, his face nearly as pale as the sheets, a large bandage on his forehead.

"Sir, you can't be in here," the nurse that had followed him protested, grabbing ineffectually at his sleeve.

"My partner's life could be in danger," he said harshly. "This guy may be the only one who can give me what I need to know to find her before its too late. I am going to question him whether you like it or not."

"I'm getting the doctor," she warned, and then she was gone.

The guy on the bed opened his eyes blearily and Booth stepped up to the bed. "What's your name?" Booth asked, far more gently than he wanted to.

The guy frowned, wetting his lips. "Patrick. Who-who are you?"

"Special Agent Seeley Booth. The guy who knocked you out, what did he look like?"

The urgency in his voice must have frightened Patrick, because he shrank back against the pillow. "I-I'm not sure. I-it was dark. He came up behind me, said 'Excuse me', I turned, and wham! he hit me."

Booth's fist clenched at his side, but he held onto his patience. "Are you sure you didn't get a look at him, even a glimpse?"

"All I remember is he was about my height, average build. I think he had dark hair, cut short," he said slowly, then shook his head. "That's all I remember. I'm sorry."

Booth closed his eyes and cursed softly. Taking a few deep breaths, he spoke when he was able. "Okay, Patrick, thank you." He pulled one of his business cards out and gave it to him, "Please call me if you think of anything else." And then he turned away, passing the doctor as he left.


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER 23

Brennan lay in the pitch dark room, trying to loosen the rope that bound her hands, but having no apparent success. He had wrapped the rope tightly around her wrists, then pulled her legs up until they were bent and used the same length of rope to bind her ankles, so she couldn't raise her hands to her face. She had no idea how long he'd been gone, but the growling in her stomach told her it had been hours. In some ways, she wished he would come back. At least then he'd turn the light on and maybe she could talk to him, try to learn more about why he'd taken her. But her leg still stung from where he had hit her and she didn't want to answer any more of his questions. She resolved not to tell him anything, no matter what he did. She hoped she was strong enough to take the pain he would inflict when she refused to cooperate.

At least he hadn't gagged her, but that wasn't necessary if this was a sound proof room. She hadn't tested the truth of that yet. She had considered it, but he might have some kind of listening device in the room and it might make him angry if she started shouting.

Her left hip was starting to ache, so she rolled to her other side. As she did, she felt the rope give a little and her heartbeat sped up. Working at the rope, twisting and turning her wrists, she felt it give a bit more. Yes! She smiled grimly, doubling her efforts. Suddenly the lights came on and the door opened and he was there. She laid still, her back to the door. There was no point pretending to be asleep. She rolled back over, wincing with pain as she landed back on her sore hip.

"Well, how are you doing, Temperance? Can I call you Temperance? Such a pretty name, it really fits you, you know. And you can call me Dale. Not my real name, of course, but I've always liked the sound of it." He set a small plate with a sandwich on it and an icy glass of water on the table. "I brought you a snack, but you're going to have to earn it. Nothing in life is free, you know." He closed the door and sat down in the chair. "Now, here's the way it works. I ask a question, you answer the question, you get a bite and a sip. You don't answer, you get the strap. Simple enough?" He smiled pleasantly and leaned his elbows on his knees, palms together as though in prayer.

"I need to go to the bathroom," Brennan said, hoping for a brief reprieve or maybe an opportunity to escape.

Dale shook his head regretfully. "I'm afraid that's impossible. I've been googling you, and I'm aware that you have martial arts training. I don't want to untie you and give you a chance to do some kind of karate move on me."

"Please, if you don't let me use the bathroom, it's going to get pretty smelly in here," she promised.

He studied her for a moment, then it seemed he came up with an idea. He left without a word and came back with a bucket and some kind of dog collar. Placing the bucket in the corner, he put the collar around her neck as he explained. "This is a shock collar, used for dog training. I've increased the voltage and rigged it with a remote which I have right here. I'm going to untie you. If you make any kind of move toward me, I will press this button and an electric shock will course through your body. I assure you it is extremely painful. I suggest you take care of your business then lay back on the bed so I can tie you up again." He began to untie her.

"You expect me to relieve myself in front of you?" she asked.

"Believe me, I have no interest in you sexually, Temperance. You're far too old for my taste," he sniffed contemptuously. And then she was free and she had to resist the impulse to attack him. She went to the bucket in the corner and took care of business as quickly as possible, pushing aside her embarrassment by reminding herself it was just a bodily function. She was only partially successful.

After she had zipped and buttoned, she turned toward the bed. The room was tiny and she had to pass close to him. Moving so quickly her hand was a blur, she grabbed the hand that held the remote and tried to squeeze a pressure point that was guaranteed to numb his hand for awhile. But it was too late. In that brief split second, he pressed the button and a jolt of intense pain shot through her body, dropping her in her tracks. She lay on the floor, moaning, panting as her muscles twitched with the pain.

To her surprise, Dale wasn't angry. In fact, he was chuckling, obviously delighted that she had tried and failed. "I would have been disappointed if you hadn't tried at least once. It's one thing to be told what can happen, it's a completely different thing to experience it first hand, wouldn't you agree?" He put the remote in his pocket and put her on the bed, tying her up before she could recover. To her dismay, he left the collar around her neck.

Seated once more, he cocked his head at her. "Now, tell me where Booth sent his son," he demanded quietly.

Brennan glared at him and pursed her lips. "He sent him to the moon," she said defiantly.

'Thwack!'—she winced and sucked wind as the pain flared in her upper arm.

"Why are you making me do this? You know eventually you are going to tell me what I want to know. You could save yourself so much pain," he said sorrowfully. "Where is he?" he demanded louder.

Brennan set her lips and narrowed her eyes at him, stubbornly staying silent.

'Thwack!'—a sob caught in her throat as pain arced across her thigh and tears sprang to her eyes, but she refused to let them fall, blinking them back furiously. 'Come on Booth,' she thought desperately, 'I know you're going to find me, please hurry, hurry, hurry…'


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER 24

Angela picked up her purse and headed for the door. She wasn't sure what to do or where to go, but she needed to get out of Brennan's apartment. The silence was deafening. At the door she paused, looking back at the empty living room. Suddenly she noticed something poking out from under the couch. Dropping her purse, she walked over and picked it up. It was a man's black leather wallet. Opening it, she found a driver's license in the little plastic window. Excitement rushed through her and she grabbed her cell and called Booth.

"Booth," he answered tersely.

"I know who has her," she stated without preamble. Her heart was pounding so hard she could barely get the words out.

"Who? How? Tell me!" he demanded.

"I found a man's wallet under the couch. I don't know how forensics missed it. He must have dropped it. The driver's license inside is for a guy named William Fontaine." She read off the address and then repeated it for him while he wrote it down. He hung up without another word.

Twenty minutes later they arrived at the address. Agents were silently swarming the neighborhood, getting into position, ready for Booth to lead the operation.

"Stay with the car. Brennan and Angela would never forgive me if anything happened to you," he told Hodgins as he put on his vest and checked the ammo in his gun.

Hodgins nodded mutely, sensing that Booth was in no mood to argue. He was comforted by the grim determination in Booth's face. He'd save Brennan and get the son of a bitch that took her. Probably get his pound of flesh before turning him in, too. He clapped Booth on the shoulder. "Be careful, man."

Booth met his eyes. "Save your concern for Brennan. Who knows what this bastard's done to her." Then he was gone.

Booth approached the front door with six agents at his back, weapons at the ready, moving as quietly as possible. Booth knocked on the door, eyes darting to the windows on either side of the door. The curtain moved at the one to the left and he dropped down a bit, motioning the agents to spread out behind him. Then the door opened, revealing a middle aged man, balding with a paunch, dressed in a flannel shirt and jeans. At the sight of all the guns trained on him, his hands went up and his mouth dropped open.

"Don't shoot!" he stammered, going pale, sweat pouring down his face.

Booth looked him up and down suspiciously. "William Fontaine?"

"Y-y-yes?"

"Where were you last night, around nine o'clock?"

The man looked confused and his eyes darted around as he tried to understand what was going on. "Home, my wife and I were watching a movie." Just then there was movement in the room behind him and the agents all tensed up.

"Bill, who is it?" A chubby blonde woman came up, gasping in shock as she saw the guns. "What's going on?"

Booth relaxed a little but didn't lower his gun. "Your wallet was found at a crime scene this morning." Something wasn't right here, he thought. Either this guy was a good actor, or he was innocent. His gut was going with the latter.

Bill lowered his hands a little, but raised them again when the agents tensed up again and moved in. "Is that what this is about? Last night when I went to pay for the movies I was gonna rent, my wallet was gone. Then I remembered bumping into this guy as I was walking up to the video store. He must've taken it."

Booth sighed with frustration. The perp must have dropped the stolen wallet at the scene on purpose, just to throw them off. He was almost sure that's how it happened, but he wanted to be certain. Stepping back, he gave the agents instructions to search the house and the surrounding area.

Half an hour later it was clear it had been a wild goose chase. She wasn't here. After apologizing to the Fontaines for disturbing them, he walked back to the SUV, angrily removing his vest. He was cursing under his breath, muttering about wasted time. Hodgins took one look at his face and got behind the wheel. He held his tongue as Booth got in and he pulled away from the curb, heading for the Hoover building.

Glancing over at Booth, who wore an expression that said he wouldn't welcome conversation, Hodgins turned on the radio. "Hot Blooded" blared out of the speakers and Booth hit a station preset and turned down the volume, his mouth grim. Hodgins, of course, didn't know the significance of the song, and Booth was in no mood to enlighten him. Any other time he would have enjoyed the song and the memory it evoked, but not today. Not until he found her and beat up the bastard who took her.


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER 25

Booth's cell rang and Hodgins turned the radio off. Listening intently, Booth pulled out his notepad and pen and wrote an address, then snapped the phone shut.

"Hang a U-turn here. They got a hit on prints found at the scene," he said quietly.

Hodgins was puzzled. "You should be happy about that—why aren't you happy?"

Booth stared down at the address he'd written. "Something just doesn't feel right. This guy is playing games with us and I don't like it. We're going to check this out, but I have a feeling it's another false lead. He's too smart to leave his prints behind." Frowning, he stared blindly at the passing scenery.

The apartment building was in a seedy part of town and Hodgins hoped Booth wouldn't make him wait in the car. He had to fight back a smile of relief when Booth handed him a vest and told him to stay back.

The hallway smelled of cat urine and boiled cabbage and Hodgins tried to remember to breathe through his mouth. Approaching apartment 12, Hodgins flattened himself against the wall as Booth held his gun ready and knocked firmly. A moment later the door was cracked open slowly and a yellowed eye appeared just above the chain.

"Yeah?" came the gravelly voice. The smell of boiled cabbage became stronger and Hodgins guessed they had found the perpetrator of that particular odor. Then he caught a whiff of the guy's B.O. and tears sprang to his eyes.

"FBI," Booth said, holding up his creds. The eye widened then narrowed warily. "Are you Robert Cain?" The man nodded hesitantly and Booth went on. "Where were you last night around nine?"

"Workin' the seven to three shift at Marty's Pub. I'm a bartender there." Booth's heart sank, even though he'd already suspected this wasn't the guy. He put his gun away and apologized for disturbing the man as the door slammed in his face. Booth's frustration rose another notch. He would make a call and check Cain's story out, but he already knew it was another dead end.

Hodgins had to trot to keep up with Booth as they headed back to the car. Booth's anger was almost a palpable presence, but Hodgins knew it wasn't directed at him. He finally got up the nerve to speak when they were back on the road. "What just happened?"

"The perp planted the prints at the scene," he said tersely, his temper barely restrained. He was seething with fury and his pulse was pounding in his ears. This guy was messing with the wrong agent, he thought savagely. When he caught him, he was going to make him sorry. And if he hurt Brennan, he was going to regret he was ever born.

Entering the Hoover building, Booth's cell rang again. He answered it as they waited for an elevator. This time Booth's response was more animated.

"What time? Why didn't you call sooner? Dammit, you wasted an hour trying to verify? Never mind, I'll take care of it," he snapped. He turned on his heel and headed for the lobby doors and once more Hodgins was forced to hurry to catch up.

"What is it now?" Hodgins asked cautiously. He wished Angela had taken the Booth watch, because he was beginning to think he'd be lucky to survive this whole wild goose chase unscathed. Booth was a nice guy, but not fun to be around when he was angry.

"They got a tip over an hour ago. A man reported suspicious activity at his neighbor's house. When he knocked on the door to check it out, he said the neighbor was acting cagey, and then his wife mentioned seeing the guy carry something into his house, something long, wrapped in a blanket late last night. That's when he called the cops and they routed the call to us."

Hodgins was confused. "Why would they do that?"

"Because the house is leased to an ex-con by the name of Charles Riggs, former cellmate of Richard Bascom." Hodgins started the car and tossed another puzzled look at Booth. "Bascom escaped last year and killed a woman," Booth continued. "I was the lead investigator. In the course of the investigation, we cornered him at a vacant warehouse. He had a knife to the throat of the woman he was holding hostage. I-I shot him to save her. Poor woman nearly bled to death before we could reach her. Bascom died at the scene."

"So you think this Riggs guy is doing all this to get back at you for killing his buddy?"

"It's the only thing that makes sense," Booth said grimly. "I just hope this lead's for real. I'm getting very tired of chasing my tail." Hodgins silently agreed. He couldn't wait to be dropped off at the lab so he could get back to his bugs and slime. Maybe he wasn't cut out for field work.


	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER 26

She really wished he'd leave the light on when he was gone. She had even asked him to as he left the last time, a request that he had found very amusing. But it was hard to work on the ropes in the dark. She felt she was making progress, but it would go so much faster if she could see what she was doing. Her mouth was completely dry since he had refused to give her a drink in view of her stubborn refusal to cooperate, but at least she didn't have to use the bucket again.

Suddenly the door opened and the light came on, but he just stood in the doorway.

"He's here!" he hissed excitedly. "He's coming up the walk. Oh, he's much smarter than I thought he was, blew through those false leads in no time at all. Now it's time to have some fun!" He giggled. "Be back in a bit," he promised with a wink. "I have to make sure everything is ready," Then he was gone, the door shut and the light off once more.

Brennan wondered if this was another of his games. Maybe he was just getting her hopes up so he could dash them. She decided it didn't matter and began working at the ropes furiously, determined that she was going to be freed by the time he returned.

Riggs lived in a middle class neighborhood with toys scattered on well kept lawns and homes that showed their owners were proud to live there. Booth scoped out the house from four doors down. The shutters were drawn and there were no lights on, but a blue sedan sat in the driveway, so he was fairly certain someone was home.

"Look, Hodgins, I want you to stay in the car." Booth was busy strapping into his vest. Hodgins glanced down the street as more unmarked vehicles pulled into sight. Soon there were a dozen agents gathered behind Booth's SUV. Booth gave them their instructions in a low voice and then they moved quickly into position.

Booth was moving toward the front door, gun at the ready, when one of the agents took a battering post and smashed it into the front door. Suddenly an explosion rocked the quiet neighborhood, blowing four agents off their feet. Booth dropped to his face in the grass, looking up in time to see the front door blown off its hinges. Three of the agents were getting up slowly, dazed. The fourth, the one who had wielded the battering post, wasn't moving. Booth pushed to his feet and rushed over to him.

"Jenkins!" he called urgently. Reaching the fallen agent, Booth turned him over gently, feeling for a pulse that wasn't there. "Damn!" he cursed softly. Closing his eyes, he allowed himself a moment to grieve over the agent's death. He'd known Jenkins for 6 years, a good man. Then a surge of anger pushed the grief to the background. The bastard was gonna pay.

Doors up and down the street were cracked open as neighbors peered out, thankfully too terrified to come out. Booth fought the urge to charge in with his gun blazing. He knew that would be suicide. Taking a few calming breaths, he gathered the agents around him. "Okay, I'm sending the Explosives Removal Team in to clear the house. Everyone else stay back and stay sharp. I don't want any more casualties and I don't want this bastard to escape."

Booth paced near his vehicle, clenching and unclenching his fists, gaze fixed on the house. Hodgins sat in the driver's seat watching him, keenly aware of every minute as it ticked by. He wished for the umpteenth time that he was back at the lab, analyzing mold or soil or larvae. He was out of his element here. He didn't have Angela's gift for dealing with people. If Angela were here, she would say the right thing to Booth to defuse his rising temper.

It took nearly forty five minutes for the ERT to finish clearing the house. The head of the team approached Booth. "The house is empty. All of the bedrooms had claymores wired to the doors."

"Empty? Why would he go to all that trouble if he wasn't holding her there?" Booth frowned, at a loss. It didn't make sense. "Hodgins!"

Hodgins head popped up from where he'd leaned it against the steering wheel.

"Put on a vest. We're going in with the Hostage Retrieval Team."

Puzzled, Hodgins shook his head. "We? Going in? Dude, weren't you listening? The house is empty."

Booth sighed. "I know, I just—I've got this feeling we're missing something. Now, put the vest on, you're wasting time." Hodgins strapped on a vest as quickly as possible as Booth checked his gun for the fourth time. "Keep your eyes peeled, okay? They've cleared the house, but you can never be too sure."

They moved through the house slowly, Booth in the lead. Searching each room carefully, they paused to listen in the quiet rooms frequently. The laundry room was the last one they searched. The tiny room was only big enough for two, so they left the HRT out in the hall. Hodgins looked around, taking in the washer and dryer, the folding table, the low set of cabinets. Then he noticed something that made him do a double take. He touched Booth's sleeve, then pointed at the floor under a set of metal shelves. Faint tracks on the floor indicated that the shelves had been pulled out and pushed back several times. Booth bent to look closer. When he straightened, Hodgins knew they may have finally caught a break. Booth pulled out the shelves and felt along the wall. Pressing on a slight depression, a door in the wall popped open.

Booth shot Hodgins a triumphant glance and held his gun ready. Suddenly the door crashed outward, knocking Booth's gun away as he fell. Hodgins dove for it too late—he saw it slide under the cabinets, out of reach. Booth rolled to his feet in time to face Charles Riggs standing in the doorway with a grin from ear to ear.

"Agent Booth! I can't tell you how glad I am to finally meet you." Booth lunged at Riggs but stopped as he heard a strangled scream from inside the room. "Ah, ah, ah, I wouldn't do that if I were you," he sing-songed. He held up a small mechanism with a button on it. "This remote goes to the shock collar around Dr. Brennan's neck. When I press this button, she will be subjected to the most exquisite pain as the collar sends electricity coursing through her body. The remote has a fifty yard range. You're going to let me walk out of here unmolested, or I'm going to press this button repeatedly. I haven't tested how many shocks a person can survive. I'm sure you don't want your partner to be the first to find out."

A muscle jumped in Booth's cheek as he heard lows moans from inside the hidden room. His fists were clenched and he was breathing heavily, but he made himself take a step back. Hodgins moved out into the hall, motioning the HRT agents back.

Suddenly the hidden door crashed all the way open. Brennan grabbed Riggs' right arm and ducked under it, twisting it mercilessly. Riggs' finger was pressing the button repeatedly until Brennan held up a strap of leather in her left hand.

"It doesn't work too well if it isn't around the victim's neck," she taunted.

Riggs kicked back at Brennan with deadly force, hitting her knee and causing it to buckle. Booth lunged at Riggs who dodged to one side and lashed out with his left leg. Booth's breath whooshed out as Riggs foot connected with his midsection. Doubling over he spun and punched Riggs in the kidneys. The killer howled with pain, panting as he turned to face Booth. Brennan struggled painfully to her feet, favoring her left knee, moving slowly to Riggs' right as Booth circled him to his left. Riggs' gaze bounced back and forth between them, trying to anticipate their next move. Brennan stepped in, wincing as she put weight on her injured knee, grabbed his right arm and twisted with all her strength. Booth stepped in and feinted with his left, bringing in his right fist to crash into his chin. Dazed, immobilized by Brennan's painful pressure on his right arm, Riggs finally went down. Straddling him, Booth's fist hit the killer squarely on the chin, knocking him out cold. Breathing heavily, Booth turned him over and snapped the cuffs on him as Brennan dropped to the floor, clutching her knee.

"Get him out of here," Booth snarled fiercely, turning Riggs over to an agent. Then he turned to his partner. "Are you okay?" he asked as he knelt next to her. She let go of her knee to throw her arms around his neck. Holding her tightly, he turned his face into her hair, relief coursing through him. That was too close.


	9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER 27

Brennan regained consciousness slowly, surfacing gradually through layers of thick fog. Booth's voice was drawing her along, unintelligibly at first, then she began to make out words, then whole sentences. She wanted to tell him she was fine, not to worry, but she couldn't make her mouth work. Frowning with effort, she opened her eyes and was relieved when his face was the first thing she saw. He smiled at her, that dear charming smile she loved so much, and she felt him squeeze her hand.

"Hey," he said, brushing the hair back from her forehead. "How do you feel?"

Licking her lips, she finally managed one word. "Water," she croaked, and he put a straw in her mouth. A few sips and the straw was taken away. "How long?" she asked.

"You were in surgery for over two hours. They repaired the torn ligaments in your knee. You have to stay off it for at least two weeks, but the surgeon says you should regain full mobility in a month or so."

Her gaze moved beyond him to look around the room. "Ange?"

"She and Hodgins' went down the hall to get some coffee. Zach's here." Zach rose from a chair in the corner and approached the bed. Brennan smiled at him.

"Don't worry about the lab, Dr. Brennan, everything's under control. Terry's there now, processing the evidence from the last body that was found." Zach knew her well enough to waste no time in bringing her up to date on the goings-on at the lab. It was the best way to keep her calm.

Just then the door swung open and Angela and Hodgins came in carrying coffees for everyone. Angela handed hers to Hodgins when she saw Brennan was awake and rushed to her friend's bedside. "Sweetie! How do you feel?"

"Fine," she replied, smiling as she tried to push herself up against the pillows. Booth was right there, adjusting the angle of the bed, pushing another pillow behind her. Brennan grabbed his arm to still his fussing. "Seeley, please, I'm fine. Stop hovering." She closed her eyes for a minute, taking a deep cleansing breath. When she opened them she found herself the center of attention. "Please, can everyone just be still?" she asked quietly. They all settled in chairs around the room, except Booth who stood at the head of her bed with his hand just touching her shoulder, as though he needed the contact to know she was okay. Brennan smiled up at him and then around at the others.

"Tell me, about—about him," she said, needing to know.

Booth spoke first. "Charles Riggs is in custody for your kidnapping, of course. Forensics is still processing all the evidence and we hope to have a complete list of the charges against him within the week. He'll be charged with Jenkins' death once we've confirmed that he set the charge wired to the front door of his house. We're fairly certain he was responsible for the murders of at least four small children prior to his stint in prison, plus the little boy killed the other day."

Brennan frowned, trying to get her fuzzy brain to form her next question. "Was he the man at the park?" she asked finally.

"Yes, his blue sedan matches the one at the park."

"But why?" Brennan was still struggling to put coherent sentences together, but Booth wasn't having any trouble following her train of thought.

"Riggs and Bascom became lovers while they shared a cell. When Riggs was paroled, he learned that I had killed Bascom and he became obsessed with making me pay. He patiently researched me and laid his plans. The day at the park was just dumb luck. He was there scoping out his latest victim when he spotted us with Parker. When the abduction was foiled, he found a similar little boy and…" Booth swallowed and found he couldn't continue.

Angela spoke up. "In the course of following Booth, Riggs figured out that you were lovers and decided to kidnap you and use you as bait. He could have taken Booth too, but he wanted Booth to suffer. He was going to kill you in front of him, then murder him."

It was Hodgins' turn. "We've got enough on him, he's not going to be breathing free air for a very long time, if ever."

A tear slipped down Brennan's cheek and Booth gently wiped it away. "All those children," she whispered. Booth decided she'd had enough.

"Okay, everyone, Bones needs to get some rest," he told them. Brennan didn't have the strength to object as one by one they hugged her and left. Then they were alone and Booth sat holding her hand. His thumb was stroking the back of her hand, but his eyes avoided hers.

Finally she squeezed his hand. "Booth," she said when he still wouldn't look her in the eye. When he did at last, the pain she saw there squeezed her heart. "I'm okay."

Tears filled his eyes. "I don't think I could go through that again," he admitted. Raising her hand, he kissed it tenderly. "When you were missing, it was like someone had torn my heart out."

"It's okay, everything turned out fine—" Brennan hastened to reassure him, but he wouldn't be deterred.

"I almost got you killed," he interrupted, his voice breaking, taking the full load of blame on himself.

"So what are you saying? Are you breaking up with me?" Please say no, she begged silently. You said you'd never leave me, her heart cried.

Blinking the tears back, he looked away. "Maybe that would be best. If anything were to happen to you because of me—I just don't think I could live with myself."

Brennan's temper rescued her. "Seeley Booth, I never would have taken you for a coward," she said in a stronger voice, far more harshly than she wanted to. His head snapped up and she saw a flash of anger in his eyes. "That's right, I said coward. There are no guarantees in life. One of us could be killed crossing the street tomorrow. Danger lurks behind every corner. We, each of us, have a choice. We can spend our days in fear, extreme caution sucking all the joy from our lives. Or we can be courageous, stepping out every day, determined to make the most of the time we have. I thought you had the guts to do that. Maybe I was wrong." Closing her eyes, she turned her head away. "I'm tired, so if you don't mind I'd like to be alone so I can sleep."

She didn't see him turn at the door and look back at her once more. If she had, she might have lost her resolve.

A week passed and Brennan was getting cabin fever. Each day passed the same as the one before, her world shrunk to the size of her apartment. Angela had come to stay with her the first few days, but Brennan finally sent her home on the fifth day. By then she had become quite good with the crutches. She spent her time reading and listening to music until she thought she was going to scream with boredom. She actually missed her television. Her laptop got a daily workout, but she found it hard to concentrate as the strangest things reminded her of Booth. She would be writing a reply to an email from an anthropology student and she'd suddenly remember how sometimes he'd complain he needed a translator in the lab. Her apartment was full of memories of the time they had spent together there and she actually considered moving even though she loved the place. Something had to change soon, she was going crazy.

She had just settled back on the couch with a sandwich and a cup of tea, a pillow under her knee and a throw over her lap when her doorbell rang. Sighing heavily, she started to get up when the doorknob rattled, making her stiffen apprehensively, heart pounding. Then the door opened and he stood in the doorway and still her heart continued to pound. He looked good, no, he looked wonderful, in spite of the circles under his eyes.

Smiling tentatively, he held up a key and shut the door behind him. "I still have your key," he explained unnecessarily. Brennan couldn't seem to frame a reply as he put the key on the table by the door.

She finally found her voice as he approached her. "What are you doing here?" she demanded breathlessly. Her heart was still racing. He sat on the coffee table near her, resting his forearms on his thighs, hands clasped together. His eyes were searching hers anxiously, looking for—what? Forgiveness? Friendship? Love?

"Temperance, I—I couldn't stay away any longer," he confessed. "Angela tells me you're doing well, but I had to come see for myself."

Pulling the throw up under her armpits, Brennan decided to play along. He wants to do the 'just friends' thing? I can do that.

"Yes, I'm doing well. Crutches aren't that bad once you get the hang of them."

"Good," he responded with a small smile. The smile faded as he became lost in the crystal depths of her eyes. I love you, Temperance, he wanted to shout, but he was still trying to find the courage for that one. "Do you need anything? I could rent you some movies—damn, you still don't have a TV."

"No, though I'm beginning to rethink that. I never thought I'd get tired of reading," she said wryly. He smells so good, she thought, surreptitiously breathing him in.

Another awkward pause as they continued to stare. Finally Booth took his courage in both hands and leaned closer. Brennan's heart slammed in her chest and she forgot to breathe. "I'm sorry, Temperance. For what I said at the hospital. You were right, I was being a coward. It was just so damned hard, when you were missing." His voice caught on the last word and Brennan reached for him and then his arms were holding her close at last. Tears coursed down her cheeks as joy made her heart sing. He finally pulled back a little so he could kiss her and she thought she'd burst with happiness. There was no more talk of breaking up or being just friends. They had found the courage to continue together, stronger as a unit than they would ever be separately.


End file.
